


Stupid Deep

by theprodigypenguin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Animagus, Brotherly Love, Comfort, Consensual, Dog - Freeform, Emerald Potion, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fox - Freeform, Full Moon, Future remadora, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Heavy Angst, Horcruxes, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inferi, Insomnia, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), Jegulus, Love, M/M, Making Love, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mental Instability, More remadora than wolfstar, Moving On, Nightmares, Overprotective, Past Abuse, Past Neglect, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Post Wizarding War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potions, Probably just friend wolfstar, Remadora, Scars, Single Parents, Snogging, Stag - Freeform, The Mauraders, Werewolf, Yeah probably no wolfstar, and he has to live with that knowledge, but he lost her, but so is james, drink of despair, he thought he lost regulus too, in which lily dies but james doesn't, james had a crush on regulus, jamesxregulus, maybe referenced remus/sirius, mention non-con, never acted on it because of sirius, past crushes, safe house, seeker chaser, seekerchaser, single dad, sirius is overprotective, was truly head over heels for lily, widower, wolf - Freeform, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprodigypenguin/pseuds/theprodigypenguin
Summary: October of 1981 came and went, Halloween night left James Potter with lasting mental and physical scars, his wife lost to him and his son marked by a madman who had the audacity to disappear before James could get his revenge. He'd lost so much in so short a time: his loving parents, his beloved wife, his long time friend; a betrayal that stung more than the curse to his chest ever could.He struggled to live, he regretted every breath, only living because he had to, because he had Harry to look after, but he ached in ways that shouldn't ever be endured by any human. James thought for sure everything was lost, even the things he still had seemed too far away and easy to lose. He doubted anything in the world could make it less painful.Until a chance miracle is brought to light, a former infatuation rekindled into burning flames, and the Gryffindor bravery James thought was long lost roars back to life inside of him. He'd lost so much, but if he could help it, he would not lose this. Not again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What if who I hoped to be was always me?  
> And the love I fought to feel was always free?  
> What if all the things I've done,  
> Were just attempts at earning love?  
> 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep.  
> \- Stupid Deep (Jon Bellion)

August was blistering hot, the sun shone unhindered by clouds in a sky so blue it was almost painful to look at; insulting and offensive. The back of James Potter's neck burned as sweat beaded along his hairline and he trudged down the cobbled side street with Sirius beside him, seeming just as pleased with the outing as James. Though he couldn't imagine the entirely black outfit Sirius chose to wear was helping him any. Looking edgy for the sake of edginess was one thing, but if he had to sacrifice his comfort, then what was the point?

"I look good in black, and I'm willing to suffer," is what Sirius had told Remus with a defiant gleam to his eyes, and the only thing Remus had to offer in return was a blank stare before shaking his head slightly.

James was not as willing as Sirius. He opted for muggle undercover clothing that would best keep him from heat stroke, jeans and a plain short sleeved t-shirt. His hair was a mess already from a mix of sweat and running his hands through it while they walked.

The little village seemed to be plucked out of an older time and dropped somewhere in the middle of dead nowhere. They were miles from any sort of city, there were no buses, only one small grocery store, and it was so empty it seemed like a ghost town slotted into the countryside just to take up space so it wouldn't look as empty on a map.

Which was ridiculous, because earlier when James looked at the map, he hadn't even found this stupid town. Or was it even big enough to be a town? James didn't know and was too hot to care. He had a lot on his mind after all; always did these days.

It was nearing a full year since he became a single father, a widower. Almost a year since the Dark Lord had disappeared, since he broke into their cottage in Godric's Hollow intent on murder. James still wondered how he managed to survive it, when he had no wand, when he was certain he heard the Dark Lord hiss out a killing curse. One that hit him in the chest. He should have died. He wished he were dead.

He recalled the pain, the drowsy confusion when he came to with a hand cradling the back of his head, a voice choking from somewhere above him. He remembered peering up into steel grey eyes, and somehow his first thought was that... _he_ was there; but it was Sirius hovering over him, awkwardly slumped over the stairs where James was lying, his grey eyes watery as he held James and repeated over and over that _it would be okay._

James didn't know what had happened at first. He was too out of it from the curse to remember, until he woke up a week later at St Mungo's. People were still celebrating. Remus was there with Sirius, who was holding Harry. Both looked miserable as they sat on either side of the hospital cot where James was confined. It took a while longer to regain all his memories, and when he did, when he asked about Lily, when his friends didn't look at him, he knew... he knew...

"Please hit me," Sirius had begged James as soon as he was well enough to stand. "Hit me. Punch me. Hate me. Please. It's my fault."

James didn't hate him though. The agony he felt at the loss of his wife was consuming, but getting angry at his friends, what good would that have done? Of course he was angry, he just didn't take it out on Sirius. He'd seen him after all, when he was barely conscious lying on the stairs with his best friend leaning over him and sobbing. What more punishment did Sirius deserve?

Harry was two now, there was only a few more months till Halloween and the first anniversary of Lily's death, and the disappearance of Voldemort. The initial celebration was short lived before Dumbledore had appeared with a warning, that although his body had been destroyed, Voldemort was still out there somewhere.

The war was over, but how long would the peace last?

It was why they were trudging hopelessly through the backstreets of a British village neither had known existed before that morning, when Dumbledore had summoned them both. They'd left Harry with Remus, who didn't seem to envy his friends at all as they bemoaned the situation and disapparated away.

James had only one theory. They were about to crack down on a former Death Eater ring hiding in the country. The Ministry had been hunting them down for months now, but had so far only managed to catch a handful, while more had managed to escape conviction with the claim that they were under the Imperius Curse. Why the council believed Malfoy, James could never guess. He probably threatened them or something.

"I swear if this so called mission turns bust, I'm never trusting that old twat again," Sirius spat out, never one to keep his thoughts to himself for too long, and though James silently agreed, he was too hot to speak it.

"Ah, and you've arrived," a voice said from the left, and they both turned to look down a side path cutting between two buildings, where Albus Dumbledore stood conspicuously.

"Yea, we're here," Sirius panted against the heat. "So what do you want?"

"Your aid."

"Because we didn't give enough of that already?"

"Sirius," James drew his friends name out slow and deliberate with undertone warning, because Remus wasn't there to keep him from snapping so James would have to instead (and because it was becoming habit to use that dad voice on everyone).

"Yes, I knew you would have reservations, Mr. Black, but if there had been anyone else I could have called, I would have." He moved from the alley to stand with the younger men. "The fact of the matter, you and Mr. Potter are the only ones who may well help me accomplish what I came here to do."

"What for?" Sirius asked. "After what happened, James needs rest, he needs to look after Harry, you can't just drag him back-."

"Sirius I'm fine, how many times do I have to tell you?" James snapped. "If Dumbledore needs help..."

He didn't finish, because while he had enough respect for the old wizard to offer his help, he could understand Sirius' resentment, and it honestly worried him. Sirius blamed himself for Lily, he blamed Dumbledore for Lily, and Sirius had never been afraid to snarl at even the strongest of wizards. It had gotten him in trouble many times in the past, and should Dumbledore decide he was done with the rebellion, it wouldn't take much to get rid of Sirius.

James couldn't let that happen. He'd lost so much already, he wouldn't be able to bear losing Sirius. No one else, he swore silently, nudging his friend to the side with his shoulder and stepping in front of him.

"What did you need our help with?"

It wasn't loyalty and trust that had him so willingly stepping up. It was respect, it was fear, it was stubborn Gryffindor bravery and recklessness. At least he had a wand this time.

"Come." Dumbledore gave a soft smile that settled James' nerves before turning and striding down the street.

James looked over his shoulder to make sure Sirius would follow, though he shouldn't have worried. Sirius had been stuck to him like glue for months now.

"It has taken me a very long time to find this ally," Dumbledore explained as he lead the two wizards from the main bustle of the thin crowd, down a side road towards the edge of the village where a stretch of trees spread out. "He hid himself very well, I must commend him on that. The protection spells were so thick I barely noticed, and I can't imagine he walks around in public very often."

"Who is this ally and why do we need them?" Sirius asked, scratching at his neck where a bead of sweat had itched its way down his skin and glancing around as they were led down the sidewalk.

"Ah, my dear Mr. Black... this boy has information that could well lead us to the Dark Lord."

"He's bloody gone, what-"

"I have said before not to get too comfortable with that belief," Dumbledore interrupted, "His body has been vanquished, but his spirit, whatever is left of it, has fled. Make no mistake, he will return in time, and if we are to defeat him indefinitely, we must be prepared for it."

"How are we supposed to do that?" James asked, "You talk like he's immortal or something. How do we kill something that can't be killed?"

"It's not so cut and dry, I'm afraid," Dumbledore cast a quick look at James. "Yet isn't it quite so? However do you think? You make it killable, Mr. Potter."

"And how might one go about making something unkillable killable again?"

"Why, you figure out what made him unkillable in the first place, and you reverse it."

He'd stopped, finally, in front of a closed gate. James hadn't even seen the fence before, but now he was right in front of it, he marveled how it could have escaped his notice in the first place. A stone wall like a cairn had been built around a yard of emerald grass and flourishing bushes and trees that dotted around a small, single floor cottage made of stone, a silent chimney poking out of the roof.

It was actually very beautiful, with climbing ivy spider webbed along the cottage walls, the glass windows foggy from age or maybe dirt. The gate in front of them was closed and locked, high enough to reach his thigh, and when James reached out to touch the top, he quickly retracted his hand at the sharp burn through his finger tips.

The entire area was heavily warded with protective charms and spells, James could feel the advanced and complicated weaving of magic that covered the cottage and the yard. Whoever had enchanted the place was extremely powerful.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Dumbledore stood there with appreciative eyes on the cottage. "Stunning really, that he was able to find such a place and work protection around it that not even I could detect. I dare say it may be the safest place in Britain, aside from Hogwarts perhaps."

"How did you find it?" Sirius asked, leaning down and opening the mailbox sitting atop the cairn beside the gate; empty of course, with no name or house number on the side. Clearly whoever lived here wasn't expecting mail.

"By chance? Or perhaps luck? Maybe I'm just that good?"

Sirius scowled as he shut the mailbox and stood up, exchanging a look with James, who was grinning in amusement. Just another secret Dumbledore wasn't willing to give up it seemed.

He brandished his wand into his hand and tapped the top of the fence three times in succession. There was a click from the other side as the enchanted lock disengaged, creaking open slowly, almost politely allowing them entrance. The three of them stepped into the yard, and the gate closed and locked behind them.

James turned to look back at it. Even though the fence wasn't exactly high, he suddenly felt like he was in a box. The protective weave of magic sat heavy over his head, and even as people passed by, some glancing towards the cottage, they didn't seem to notice anything. It was like he was under his invisibility cloak, but larger, and far more powerful.

He supposed he should have felt anxious, but the magic around him didn't feel oppressive or dangerous at all. In fact, it was warm. Not hot like the sun, like the blistering August that had his bangs plastered to his forehead, but tender like a heartbeat.

When Dumbledore reached the door, thick wood carved with curls and Celtic knot work, runes seared into the door frame, he tapped out another set against it with the tip of his wand. This time he had wand to wood nine times and seemed to be in a specific design. There was a low click, and Dumbledore stepped back.

"Mr. Black, if you may."

"Me?" Sirius stared at him suspiciously. "What for? Is this a trap?"

"No I can't imagine. You're simply the only one who can touch the door with flesh."

"Why?"

"I suppose we'll see, once the door has been opened."

"You can't do it?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore didn't appear too upset by that. "I managed to find this place and discover the counter spell to let us through the enchantments by watching and observing, but the one thing I cannot undo is the magic weaved into the very heart of this house. It is ancient, and cannot be undone by conventional means."

"I'm unconventional you mean."

"Why yes, I thought that obvious."

James snorted and Sirius glared at him before looking at the door, reaching out and letting his hand hover over the doorknob before glancing again at James.

"If I start screaming, get the hell out of here."

James frowned. "Well I won't, but feel free to think I will, if only for your peace of mind."

Sirius rolled his eyes and inhaled deep, grabbing the doorknob fiercely and turning it, pushing the door forward. That was that, not even a creak sounded from the hinges as it opened, and the three of them crept cautiously inside with their wands in their hands.

Sirius shut the door once they were inside, and James stood there taking in the interior with a slow sweep of his eyes. The enchantments were even heavier here, the room was a pleasant cool to rival the weather outside. It was eerily silent, aside from the rhythmic ticking and tocking of clocks that hung on the walls around them. James felt like he'd walked into a different world.

There were bunches of herbs, flowers, and other strange looking dried things hanging on the ceiling by twine, the fireplace off to the left was dead, but there was wood sitting patiently to the side in the event of a cold night. The furniture was old and Victorian, the colors deep and dark red, purple, and green. There were no pictures, no personal effects, not even a folded newspaper or a half finished cup of coffee.

To the right was a set of closed wooden double doors, in front of them was a wall that must separate the rest of the house from the kitchen. Two more doors must have lead to the bathroom and bedroom respectively. It seemed a bit bigger on the inside than James had guessed, suggesting a well managed extension charm that had been perfectly cast.

The inside of the house had a warm, inviting atmosphere, shelves lining each wall were filled with books, it was so impossibly neat and comfortable. James, for all his caution, started to lower his wand, because he felt inexplicably _safe._

"Don't lose your nerve yet," Dumbledore warned, wandering towards the double doors. "Search around, but don't touch anything. Mr. Potter, the kitchen if you would?"

"Yea," he strode across the room, footsteps muffled by carpet, and heard Dumbledore direct Sirius to one of the other doors.

The kitchen was much like the entry. Pristine, with rather muted colors, eggshell and white and bits of black and grey. There was a small rounded table sitting in the middle with four matching chairs around it, and a door that must have lead to the yard and into the woods that backed the cottage. A diamond shaped window filled with stained glass was set into the top half of the door.

There were no dishes in the sink, the room appeared empty, but James went about his search, looking into cabinets to find sets of plates and cups, silverware in the drawers, food and drink in the fridge. He'd just pulled down a tin, setting his wand on the counter so he could grab hold, and turned it around in his hand before popping off the lid.

The pleasant scent of herbs filled the air, and somehow it washed a wave of nostalgia through him, making him stare dizzily at the counter. What was that smell? Why was it so familiar? It yanked at a string in his mind, something he wasn't sure he wanted to pull at, before a voice rose from his memories.

_"The tea is not bland, Potter. If anything is, it would be your nasty personality."_

_"You should give it a try sometime."_

The scent became heavier as the tea was shoved into his face.  _"As should you."_

He slowly set the tin down, brow furrowed, and picked his wand up instead. James didn't know how he noticed, because not a sound had been made since he'd come into the kitchen, but surviving the Dark Lord had given him an intense paranoia, a sixth sense. Someone was in the room with him. It could have been Sirius, but wouldn't he have spoken up?

James spun fast with his wand brandished and drew a spell into the air as he shouted:  _"Stupefy!"_

_"Finite Incantatem."_

The rebuttal was merely uttered, and the flash from James' spell burst into nothing, leaving him staring down the top of his wand towards a young man standing at the open back door. James felt petrified in shock, eyes wide, and he suddenly remembered why that tea smelt so familiar.

He looked _different,_ but exactly the same as James remembered. He had the same line of his jaw and slope of his nose, more slender than his brother's but still distinctly a shared familial attribute. His skin was pale, maybe too pale, and his eyes were like melted silver. They glinted, filled with suspicion and, if possible, inconvenience. His black hair must have grown, out of his control, collected and pushed up to the back of his head, tied there with strands hanging in his face and held up by ties and silver hair sticks. Maybe he couldn't have been bothered to shorten it, maybe he didn't want to.

His clothes were all black, cloak still around his shoulders, wand pointed at James, piercing eyes sweeping over him as James merely stood in a state of shock, unable to move even a muscle as the younger man slowly shut the door. James noted the tiny twigs and leaves stuck in his hair and caught on his robes, he must have been in the forest till now.

Was... this cottage, was it _his?_

_How?_

"Ho-... wh... R-Reg?"

Regulus Black. It had to be. He looked just like him. Maybe a bit older, maybe his eyes a bit more haunted, but it was him. He looked too much like Sirius for it to be coincidental, yet not at all like his brother at all. It had always been like that.

Sirius had a kind of look that was always a little unkempt and rugged, always a little dirty even if he'd bathed. He was rough and sloppily cut corners, grunge and frayed edges.

Regulus, though, had a kind of elegant edge that must have come from how he was raised, to hold himself like that. He was cold and glass and pride, and he was staring at James like he was a mild inconvenience.

"Reg...," he whispered again, only seconds had passed that felt like eternity of staring, trying to take in everything about the younger Black. "How... how... you were dead... I thought..."

Regulus was lowering his wand. "How did you find me?"

"I... didn't, I didn't, we didn't, Dumble-"

"James!"

The moment broke, Regulus lifted his wand again as his brother ran into the kitchen with his wand up and a curse on his lips, jerking to a halt when his eyes found Regulus at the door, mouth dropping open. Regulus stared back, it was impossible to read his face, but he was lowering his wand again. Not wanting to fight.

Maybe it was because James had trained his eye to catch these things now, but Regulus looked tired. There were bags under his eyes, and the frown looked like an uneven crack through marble. Something about this, something about Regulus, didn't feel right. He looked stable and unaffected, but there was something in his eyes, something he'd seen in his own reflection, buried so deep under "I'm fine", "I'm tired". He looked at Sirius and James saw a star glint in his silver eyes that begged to break down then and there.

Instead, they steeled like cold stone and grew unbelievably hard as his hand curled tighter around his wand and lifted it towards Sirius. James panicked, until he realized Regulus wasn't aiming at Sirius, but at Dumbledore, who was moving around Sirius to enter the kitchen.

"You," he spat, and James could hear the echo of Black prejudice as Dumbledore merely smiled; it seemed to make Regulus angrier.

"Found at last after being lost so long," Dumbledore greeted, and Regulus scoffed.

"Who ever said I was lost? Get out."

"Forgive me, but is it not Black etiquette to offer tea and biscuits to your guests?" Dumbledore ambled into the kitchen and took a seat at the round table, and Regulus seemed to seethe on the spot, white hot anger in his eyes, though the rest of his face remained neutral.

"Perhaps you're in shock, it has been a while since you've seen your brother, and I imagine you've been through quite a trauma," Dumbledore waved a hand and the seat across from him slid out towards Regulus. "Why not take a seat with me? I imagine Mr. Potter here wouldn't mind making some tea?"

"What?" James asked, and Sirius finally broke from his staring at Regulus.

"What?"

"Would you like to make the tea instead-?"

"Fuck the tea!" Sirius yelled. "What the hell is going on?!"

"I did tell you, didn't I? That I needed your help?" Dumbledore lifted his hands to motion at Regulus. "I needed the help to convince young Regulus into joining us as our ally."

Sirius looked fifty shades of red and white as the corner of Regulus' lips curled horrifically. "Get. Out. I will not work with you. I will not be another of your pawns, put out there to die for you just like...," he trailed off, his eyes flickered to James for half an instant, and James tensed up.

"My dear boy... am I not being clear?" Dumbledore asked it softly, gently, like he was talking to a toddler. "You know what has happened, you surely must have sensed it? He is gone. You've no need to hide."

"Who said I was hiding?"

"What is it you believe you are doing then, Regulus?"

Regulus didn't answer, but he definitely had an answer to give. He chose not to speak, but James wanted to know what he was thinking too. Sirius probably did as well. Though he was certain what his friend would say, was certain he wanted to start yelling and cursing and spitting. For all they had known, Regulus had died. He'd gone missing and never turned back up, just fading off the face of the planet entirely, and no one knew what happened.

Dead. Sirius ranted for weeks at the slightest mention of his brother, that the weak minded sod had gotten cold feet about being a Death Eater and tried to flee, only to be hunted down and murdered like a wild animal. James used to hope that Sirius would find comfort in just the idea that his brother tried to defect from the Death Eaters, but instead he used it to fuel his anger at Regulus.

Because, as James well knew, feeling anger was so much easier than feeling anguish. Hating Regulus was easier on Sirius' heart than loving him and losing him.

"You were marked by him," Dumbledore said, Sirius scowled, Regulus' posture went tight and he hid his left arm behind his back, something new and wild in his eyes. "That makes you liable to the consequences falling to the rest of his Death Eaters. If you will agree to help us, I will guarantee your immunity."

"Immunity," Regulus hissed a whisper. "You mean you'll keep me out of Azkaban so long as I suit your needs. The moment I'm no longer useful, off I go. Is that what you told _him?"_  His eyes were growing wilder. "Defect into a spy for your precious Order, and you'll provide immunity. Immunity, not freedom, not protection. Surely he's upset with you."

Dumbledore eyed him, calm as ever, but James couldn't help being confused. "You know much, for being dead these last few years."

"I keep tabs," Regulus stated. "I watch and listen, I don't trust anyone. That's why I'm not dead yet," a cloud passed over his eyes, a yearning, James felt his throat close, then it had been blinked away and Regulus was glaring again. "If you'd just let me be, I would have stayed here unbothered, gotten in no ones way, forgotten like a bad memory. You just had to show up..."

"We need your help."

"Why? Why should I? How do you know I even _can_ help? How do you know I'm not still loyal to Voldemort?"

"Because if you are I'll kill you were you stand," Sirius snarled, and Regulus turned his wand to his brother, his eyes suddenly alight.

"Do it then."

"No, enough of this!" James stepped forward. "Sirius, put your wand away! We don't even know what's happening!"

"James-!"

"Away, Sirius!" James snapped in that same voice as before, and Sirius went rigid before lowering his wand, teeth grinding together.

Regulus glared back at him, until James turned to look in his direction. "You too, put that away!"

The younger Black's eyes popped wide and he gaped at James, taken aback at his tone and quickly retracting his arm. The room grew silent for a moment, Dumbledore waved a hand again and the other two chairs slid out from the table.

"All of us, we will have a pleasant talk over tea."

"I'll make it," James muttered, finding Regulus still staring at him as he turned to grab a kettle.

Their eyes lingered together, catching like flailing fingers, before scratching and breaking away, leaving James squinting like it had physically pained him.

"Have a seat, Regulus," Dumbledore urged, slipping into a more informal address. "You as well, Sirius. We have much to discuss. Oh and James, do remember the sugar. I do enjoy sugar with my tea."


	2. Chapter 2

James should have listened to Regulus all those years ago, he decided, holding a mug between his hands and leaning back in his chair, looking down at the amber shade the hot water had changed to once the tea leaves had been added. It wasn't awful at all, in fact it was no wonder Regulus liked it enough to carry some around all the time. It did have a bitter bite to it, but the taste it left on the tongue was a gentle sweetness that got stronger with every breath he inhaled. Like the flavor had settled into his tastebuds completely.

Sirius had dragged the other chair purposely around the table, the legs scraping the ground loudly enough that Regulus' eye gave a tic, and dropping it next to James before taking a seat close to him. He took the cup James offered him, but stared suspiciously into it, like he thought it had been poisoned.

Dumbledore did not share his concern, adding spoonfuls of sugar into his tea and mixing it around with a pleased smile, the little clicks of spoon against porcelain the only sound in the kitchen as the four of them sat tight as statues awaiting demolition.

Regulus was the one person who hadn't touched the cup in front of him, and James silently hoped he hadn't offended the younger Black by using his tea. His piercing eyes were on Dumbledore, sitting across from him, watching in clear frustration as the old wizard lifted his cup and took an audible sip before looking around the kitchen.

"Truly a charming little home, Regulus, I must commend you. Every decoration is wonderful, pristinely kept, even the study is set up beautifully. Do you have a garden? I would love to see it."

Regulus' face seemed to crinkle as his anger grew, but Dumbledore just continued to look around in marvel. James probably wouldn't say anything, it would just add to Regulus' fury, but he thought the cottage was nice too. Small, but big enough, and cozy. It was nice, it was... it felt _safe._ He hoped Regulus thought so too. If there was anyone who ever deserved to feel safe...

"I would have loved a home like this. Perhaps when I retire I will look for a little cottage at the edge of the woods. Yes, maybe in Austria. I do love it there. Have you been to Africa, Regulus? Lovely there as well."

James flicked his eyes to Regulus, who now appeared as if he'd shoved an entire lemon into his mouth and was trying to keep from spitting it out. He didn't know Regulus, not as well as he knew Sirius of course, but he knew enough to know that Regulus wasn't exactly fond of small talk. He considered it boresome and pointless. If he couldn't have a normal conversation with someone from the get go, they weren't worth his time.

"Why, I went on a hiking trip many years ago with a very good friend-" Dumbledore had started, only for Regulus to interrupt.

"Get out, if this is all you're going to be spitting to me."

"Now Regulus, I was merely trying to find ground with you."

"Don't waste your breath."

"Then shall we hurry and get to the point of our visit?"

"You already told me why you were here. You want to recruit me; I'm not interested."

"Is that what you heard me say? Oh my dear boy, I only said I came seeking your aid."

"That doesn't change my response," Regulus seethed. "I don't want anything to do with any of this any longer. I'm out. You understand? I'm out and I want you to leave me be."

"Regulus, you must know I cannot do that," Dumbledore said, sounding terribly remorseful, and James noted how Regulus began to shake, though he couldn't tell if it was from anger or something else.

"That's it then," he said. "My involvement has made me a perfect tool for you, the most convenient of weapons, lucky you found me. Either I comply or I go to Azkaban. It doesn't matter that I've lived in peace here among Muggles without incident for months, I still deserve _punishment."_

He gasped the last word breathlessly, like it tasted wrong and had to be forced out, like saying it actually hurt Regulus, who seemed to pale a shade more. His eyes were lost, like he was remembering something, and Sirius was the one to grumble.

"Professor..."

It was enough for James to relax at least, having worried till then that Sirius would jump for his brother's throat at any sign that Regulus seemed untrustworthy. He still didn't like it, that growl of warning he gave Dumbledore when he addressed him, but it was a warning to fend him away from Regulus, to stop pushing. Maybe he'd seen it too, that memory in his brother's eyes.

"Surely you did not expect to get out unscathed?" Dumbledore asked, and it was quickly understood he'd used the wrong words as Regulus got to his feet.

_"Unscathed?"_

"I'm merely explaining that you cannot expect to have joined the Dark Lord thinking it would be easy to escape your deeds."

_"Escape? Easy?"_

"Sir," James called to Dumbledore. "I think maybe we should discuss what happened before bringing up talk of... atonement for misjudgment," he glanced at Regulus, but he didn't react to James, so he looked back at Dumbledore. "I don't know about anyone else, but till now I was pretty convinced Regulus Black was dead."

"Good," Regulus said.

"I agree," Dumbledore nodded. "Regulus, if you would, share with us the recount of how you came to this place? How you defected from the Death Eaters? You did defect, of course?"

"If that's what you call up and leaving and somehow not getting caught, then yes, I defected."

James heard Sirius inhale slowly as Dumbledore waved again at the chair, urging the younger Black to sit back down. Regulus slowly lowered himself into it, not taking his eyes off the older wizard and still not touching the tea.

"Would you tell us?" Dumbledore asked gently. "How is it you decided to defect? You have been hiding for quite a long time, haven't you?" When Regulus didn't answer, Dumbledore tried again. "Perhaps you realized the path of a Death Eater wasn't for you? I always thought you had a talent for much more than what your parents set you on."

"Or maybe you got cold feet, acted as a coward," Sirius blurted it out, the same thing he'd been saying to James and Remus ever since the news that Regulus was missing came to them, and for the first time, Regulus winced.

"... I uncovered information that I shouldn't have had access to," Regulus explained in a soft voice, as if struggling to regain whatever composure he could. "Voldemort tried to use something of mine, harm it, kill it, something of _mine,_ something only _I_ had right to, so I stuck my nose in where I shouldn't have, because I'm petty, because I'm stupid maybe, because I was angry and spiteful."

"I see. What was this information?" Dumbledore asked. "It was enough to put you on his radar?"

"No," his voice dropped a bit lower. "I was careful, I sabotaged him without him noticing, then I disappeared to watch from a safe distance. I truly doubt he realized what I'd done before his demise. He had no idea."

"Why?" Dumbledore asked, and Regulus turned to look directly at Sirius.

"Because I'm a coward," and Sirius seemed to set his jaw in defiance.

"Self preservation isn't cowardly, Mr. Black," Dumbledore offered. "We're lucky you have that attribute in fact, or we would be very lost for what to do. Now, if I may, this information that you managed to get a hold of?"

Regulus was staring at the table with a blank expression, like he'd forgotten where was. "He thought he was smart," he started, "but he was too boastful, too proud. He underestimated the people around him, and maybe the rest were too blind, too seduced by his power to see through his words, but I saw it. I had a hunch of what he was doing ages before I knew for certain. I knew he was trying, I just didn't know he'd succeeded until..."

There was pain then, behind his eyes, another memory. James was noticing this happened quite often, every few minutes at least, where Regulus would stop mid sentence and remember something, relive something. It couldn't have been pleasant. James exchanged a look with Sirius, but the older Black brother still looked more mad than anything else, so James just looked back at Regulus as he blinked away the memory and tried to speak again.

"When I left, I had to go deep into hiding, to... recover. I was going to bring it, to hand it over to you, to the Order, to wash my hands of the mess and be done with it, but first I had to step aside until people believed I was well and truly dead, so they wouldn't hunt me and discover what I'd uncovered before I had a chance to hand it over. Before I could... before I'd gotten the chance to bring it to the Order, Voldemort was taken out," his eye flicked to James, who felt suddenly ill, setting down his half finished tea.

"Ah, yes, so you did hear of Lily Potter's fate then?" Dumbledore asked.

James felt himself wither, and Sirius sat straighter in his seat, James could swear he saw smoke coming from his ears.

"Like I said before, I keep tabs," Regulus answered, keeping his eyes off James and his brother, not that he'd spared them more than passing glances this entire time. "I keep myself well informed for my own safety, and I heard what happened when I was last in Diagon Alley a few months ago."

"I see," Dumbledore gave a wise nod, and James found himself staring intently at Regulus.

He hadn't expected Lily to be brought up, and her name alone made his heart ache in ways he couldn't describe, but the look Regulus had, though neutral, held something behind it, and James was intrigued to hear what else he had to say. Regulus had been in hiding this whole time, carrying around a secret that was evidently so dangerous it could have gotten him killed or worse. That was why Dumbledore brought them there?

"I wasn't quick enough," Regulus explained, staring into his tea. "I hesitated, I hid, because I didn't know what to do with what I had, and..."

"Mr. Black, you're not telling me you feel _guilt_ for Lily's death?" Dumbledore asked, and Regulus gave him a blank stare in return.

"There's no telling what would have happened, had I gotten this information to you any sooner. People die in war, that's a fact people tend to overlook. Would my information have been able to save her? Somehow I doubt it, because there wasn't enough time to do anything with it, between my discovery and her death. Now it doesn't even matter. Voldemort is gone."

"Yet you cling to this information like a life boat," Dumbledore gave his observation slowly. "Almost like... insurance."

"I keep it because of what I sacrificed to get it," Regulus spat bitterly, and Dumbledore took another sip of his tea.

"I know you sense it," Dumbledore noted, eyes on Regulus. "You're an intelligent and sensitive young man. Voldemort's body may have been destroyed, but he is still out there, a soul decaying in dark magic."

Maybe it was because he was closest to Regulus, but James saw his hands moving on his lap, hidden mostly by the table. His right hand went to his left arm, nails digging into his forearm where the Dark Mark would be, hidden away by layers of clothes, his face remaining neutral as his jaw tightened.

"He may be gone for now, but Regulus, surely you know that given the right means, he may well return. I couldn't imagine he'd be very pleased with you once he does."

Sirius didn't seem to like that implication, turning to snarl at Dumbledore, but James reached over to grab his wrist and squeeze it to shut him up before he could say anything, nails biting into the heel of his friend's palm. It sounded like a threat, if James was hearing the same thing as Sirius, and James didn't like it any more than Sirius did, but snapping at the man would do them no good.

"We must be prepared for when he does regain power. With your information, we may be able to prepare properly and be ready for him."

"Who ever said I wanted to help you?"

"My dear boy, this is not a matter of want. This is a matter of principle. You have information that could help us defeat Voldemort once and for all, and in the position you sit at, do you truly think holding it captive will do you any good?"

Regulus was scowling at that, and James hated to admit Dumbledore had a point. Whether they liked it or not, Regulus had been a Death Eater, and going against the Dark Lord by defecting and stealing key information was one thing, but it might not be enough to settle the Ministry.

"I have a condition," Regulus said, and Dumbledore lifted both eyebrows up towards his hairline. "I will give you what I have, and in return I only want one thing."

"What is that?"

"I want you to _leave me alone,"_ it came out on the edge of something desperate, something so exhausted, and James felt his heart seize in his chest. "All of this, I want nothing else to do with it. I finally got away, I will not be pulled back. I will give you what I have on Voldemort, on his supporters, but in return I want to be wiped from the records, I want everyone to remain under the suspicion that I died. I want to have never existed in the first place. Leave me alone, just let me live the rest of what's left of my life completely alone."

"Such a painful life. Wouldn't it be? To be entirely alone?"

Regulus looked unamused at the pity. "As if I haven't been entirely alone for the great majority of my life already?"

"Perhaps you don't need to isolate yourself?"

"That is my condition. If you dislike it, get out."

For a moment, James worried Dumbledore would accept, and the prospect of never seeing Regulus again, after just finding him, after thinking him dead, well, Sirius likely felt it worse than James, but it still seemed a ridiculous condition, one neither would be willing to keep. Then Dumbledore spoke again, and his voice was careful, and suddenly James felt pity for Regulus.

"Surely you understand, Mr. Black, that I cannot go on with that. This information is not the only thing I came to ask of you."

Regulus practically hissed. "And I told you, I have no intention of joining your Order. I want to be left alone!"

"Regulus you misunderstand, I am not asking you to join me, I am merely asking your aid."

"You are the last person I would want to help," Regulus seethed.

"It isn't me you would be helping. You see, beyond what you have of the Dark Lord, I need your magic," Regulus appeared confused, taken aback, and Dumbledore tried to explain. "There are wizards twice your age older that would have a hard go of weaving as many protective spells, charms, and enchantments as you have to keep this home from the eyes of wizard kind. I dare say this building alone is as safe as Hogwarts, if not more so, the prestige of the protection on this house is greater than many of the Order's own safe houses."

"... what's your point?"

"Aside from the information you hold, which may, if given the right trial, keep you from imprisonment in Azkaban for your crimes of aiding the Dark Lord through the war," James saw Regulus' face get another shade whiter, "the other thing I would like to request of you is that you open your home."

"My home...," Regulus hissed it so softly. "So that's it? I won't roll over for you, I won't give you what you want, so you'll use manipulation, you'll threaten me with prison if I don't comply? Sure, I keep my isolation, I disappear from history, no one bothers me, but only if I let you take my home. You won't be satisfied until I'm displaced."

"Certainly not, Mr. Black, in fact I must insist you stay right here where you belong! It is your home after all. I'm simply asking you to open it, to allow protection to those who need it."

"Why should I care?"

"Because these people, as you so gracefully put it and will surely empathize with, have been displaced. Their lives are in danger, because we still don't have a clear grasp on the Dark Lord and his weaknesses. I will do everything in my power to give you what you want, the isolation you so desire. Not a soul will bother you again, but for just a bit, just a bit won't you open this warded home to people who are as endangered as yourself? It's up to you, Regulus, but I must remind you that if you can't help, you are still a Death Eater, and therefore may be seen as a threat to the Ministry and the wizarding world as a whole. You see, don't you? What choices you have?"

Regulus stared at him, not saying anything, until he reached out to pick up his cup of tea for the first time, though it was likely cold by now, and drinking a bit, continuing to stare at the table for quite a while before setting the cup down and looking back at Dumbledore.

"I hate to tell you this, but I'm not as stupid as you might think. I know your ploy, I know how you work. You think you can hide your intentions with fancy words, trick me into thinking this is my decision, but it's not. I don't have a choice in the matter at all, do I? Because like you said, I am a Death Eater, I took the mark, and that makes me a threat. Prove myself useful to you, you'll provide your version of protection; fight you, and you will help to condemn me.

"Everyone who helps you ends up dead, betrayed, imprisoned, or stuck in a life debt to you. You put on a show with a glowing persona that makes you out to be a hero, someone to be trusted, you manipulate and lie to get what you want, to bleed desperate people dry of information until you've used them up and they become useless shells, then you leave them in the mud once you've finished. If they don't want to help you, if they don't give you what you desire, you manipulate even harder, you twist everything, you make them think they're safe and trick them into thinking they made the decision to help you on their own, that everything that happened is okay, but it's not. You pretend to care, you pretend you'll protect them, but every pawn runs out of use eventually. Use them, abuse them, destroy them, set them out as bait to lure in danger, then wait till the last second to swoop in and take credit for its defeat, while you leave them writhing in the mud and the rain."

Instead of looking offended, Dumbledore remained smiling. "Seems you speak from experience, is that right?"

Regulus drew back, grew so pale that his cheeks looked yellow, and there was fear in his eyes. Maybe it was because of taking care of Harry, maybe it was from his experience with Remus and Sirius, maybe it was because this was his best friend's younger brother, but James wanted to comfort him. He wanted to tell Dumbledore that enough was enough, and to pull Regulus close until he'd calmed down, but he just sat there and watched helplessly as a myriad of emotions played out behind silver steel eyes.

Then, they blanked, everything disappeared, James wondered if Regulus was still there or not. He watched Dumbledore, who watched back patiently, and Sirius was growing more and more tense with each passing second. It was so quiet that they could hear the ticking of the clocks from the other room, James' heart was thudding in his ears.

Regulus stood up from his chair, purposefully, and walked from the room. Sirius made a move to get up and follow, but Dumbledore stopped him with a lifted hand. The younger Black returned a moment later and set a wrapped parcel maybe a little too forcefully onto the table in front of the older wizard, then took his seat again.

When he spoke, it was with a voice that couldn't possibly be his. "... what... accommodations... shall I make for my guests... _sir?"_

"I believe a single room will suffice," Dumbledore answered, "perhaps two bedrooms if you find you're up for it, as well as a bathroom."

"And.... when shall I be expecting them to arrive, _sir?"_

"Within the day."

"I see... what precautions shall I see to, in the event they are truly in peril... _sir?"_

"Extra wards on the house, ah, and while I'm at it I'll add your chimney to the floo network, just for now. I'll open it two way, to make it easier to come and go, but still keep it secure."

Regulus didn't look at all pleased at the prospect of his home being added to the floo network, but he said nothing against Dumbledore, who finished off his tea and set the cup down.

"I must thank you for your hospitality, and I am truly pleased we managed to come to an agreement where we both win. Though I do hope we can have tea together again, under better circumstances," he rose from his seat, pushing it in and smiling at Sirius and James. "We should be going now, still much to do before tomorrow. Rest well, young Regulus."

He took the parcel that had been set down for him, slipping it into one of the pockets in his robes, and left the kitchen. James and Sirius both rose to their feet to follow, James swallowing down the nerves that had been caught in his throat. It seemed that he'd gone mute during the conversation between Dumbledore and Regulus, like he'd been in so much shock at the topic that he couldn't get himself to make words. He and Sirius both had been stuck there frozen, watching the scene play out like a film at a theater, a dialogue that they only had half the information for, therefore barely understood. The minute Dumbledore left the room, James could feel his throat opening again, and he looked down at Regulus, who was staring at the tabletop with dead, defeated eyes, nothing like what he'd seen just an hour previous, when he'd laid his eyes on Regulus Black for the first time in _years._

"Regulus-"

"Get out of my house, Potter."

James opened his mouth to protest, words caught on his tongue when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over at Sirius, who had his head down and his eyes off to the side. James tried not to sigh as he nodded and followed Sirius towards the door.

Something made him pause in the doorway between the kitchen and the front entry, hesitating visibly and turning to look back into the kitchen where Regulus was sitting at the table. He looked so different than when he was a kid, than how he looked when James last saw him. There was an ache in the pit of his stomach that made him say it, like a burn, that crawled up his chest and throat and out his mouth.

"I'm glad you're not dead."

Regulus said nothing as he kept his head down, casting his eyes up to watch James through his eyelashes, and there it was again. That look that James remembered from those late nights after a nightmare, when he'd stand at the mirror in the bathroom and stare at his reflection. Regulus' eyes were mirrors of his own on those nights, and he felt his throat closing again as lead seemed to fill his shoes.

_Because Regulus wasn't glad for it._

James understood that, as much as it hurt to realize, and Regulus understood James. It had been a long time since he last had someone who understood, that burn in his gut, that shadow in his mind, that silent wish that he would never utter in front of his friends.

That he wished he'd died with Lily.

"Prongs," James forced himself to back away, turning on his heel and following Sirius out the front door after Dumbledore.

Back under the bite of the sun, James jogged past Sirius to catch up to the old man who was far too spritely for his age.

"Sir? Professor!" He managed to catch up to Dumbledore, having to keep up a brisk walk as the man was not slowing down. "What the devil was that back there?" James waved his hand wildly back, nearly smacking Sirius in the face.

"Ah, a complete success!" Dumbledore exclaimed, reaching into his robes to search around. "I'd like to thank you both for coming along. It made the transition easier for him."

"Easier? You call that easier? Professor, you know I have the utmost respect for you, and I trust you, but that," James waved his hand again. "Sir that was not a transition, that was...!"

"Blackmail," Sirius said, and he didn't look amused at all despite the fact he'd inadvertently used a pun of his own name. "You used us, me, against him, to trick him into not arguing about your terms."

"Mr. Black, I asked you along because the door will only open to Regulus or a close family member, and you are the closest it will come."

"So I came to be a lock pick? To help you break into his house?"

"What was I there for then? You know what I don't care," James ran around to stand in front of the Hogwarts headmaster. "Sirius is right, you essentially tricked him!"

Dumbledore stopped finally. "James, you're in a state of grief-"

"I'm not!" James snapped, which certainly didn't prove he wasn't losing it.

"We are in a war."

"Vold-! He's dead! He died! We're not in a war any longer!"

"We will be at war until every Death Eater that fought with Voldemort has been convicted, or cleared of charges. Until this," he pulled out the parcel that Regulus had given to him, unwrapping it but not touching the item within, "has been destroyed."

A locket of amber color sat there on the paper, it looked incredibly old and worn, and just looking at it had James tensing, a hand rubbing at his chest as he furrowed his brow. Sirius stood next to him, staring at the necklace in confusion.

"What is it?"

"This, Mr. Black, is the deadly secret that your brother uncovered. The reason he had to fake his death and disappear. This, is the end of Voldemort."

"Okay, but what is it?"

"A Horcrux," James didn't bother asking what the hell that was, he got the feeling Dumbledore wouldn't tell him anyway. "One of many, I fear. We need to find and destroy all of them, if we wish to have any chance of stopping Voldemort," he rewrapped the necklace and stowed it back into his robes. "Your brother did a miraculous thing in retrieving it for us. I do not know the details of how he came across it, but he did a wondrous deed."

James glanced at Sirius, who looked painfully confused, then back at Dumbledore. "Did you know he was alive?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not for a very long time."

"How did you find him?"

"Mere coincidence," Dumbledore admitted. "I suppose I was at the right place at the right time."

James exhaled slowly, still not liking the situation. "Why did you trick him-"

"Mr. Potter I did not trick him," Dumbledore interrupted. "I set him towards a path where he would be useful to us, therefore irreplaceable and an important, powerful ally. With these selfless acts of kindness towards the Order, towards Voldemort's fall, the Ministry will treat his case lightly, and there is a high chance he will be freed."

"You're still going to arrest him?" Sirius asked gruffly, and James surged back to his initial question.

"Why did you convince him to open his home? Why does the Order need another safe house? Who's in so much danger?"

Dumbledore looked puzzled. "Why, you are, James," James felt his mouth dry as Dumbledore shook his head, patting his arm as he passed him. "You and your son. You do not realize it, Mr. Potter, but your son, your Harry, is meant for great things. He needs to be in a safe, protected environment, and Regulus just happened to have created the perfect place. I'll come for you tomorrow, to move you both to the cottage."

There was a crack, James spun to gape at the spot where Dumbledore had disapparated. He felt dizzy and too hot, his mind spinning and his chest aching, struggling to breathe. Sirius put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, looking torn between anger, concern, and confusion.

"... mate?"

James shook his head, closing his eyes, "That man," he said. "That bloody man."

"Yea, no kidding," Sirius laughed softly. "Come on. Let's go relieve Moony from babysitting duty. We'll figure this out. We always do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late update. I didn't want to post this chapter until I had the fourth one written, but I was too excited, soooo tadah I guess. A quick warning, I'm partaking in the jeddyfest on Tumblr, which goes on till fics are posted in April, so I'll be putting updates on this fic on temporary hold until fest is over, but I'll still be writing in between my fest fics. Thank you for being so patient, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Remus had always been the brains of their group, but he could only shake his head when asked if he knew what a Horcrux was, looking confused. It changed to an expression of muted shock when they sat down and discussed the rest of what had taken place: Regulus Black being revealed to be alive.

"And Dumbledore had absolutely no answers for you?" Remus asked Sirius, who shook his head, eyes downcast, then at James. "Regulus didn't hint what happened to him even a little?"

"No," James sighed, he had Harry in his arms, sitting on his lap and bouncing him on his knee as his son clung to a stuffed dog. "The situation is suspicious enough without Regulus being at the center of it, but under the consideration that he was dead until this morning?"

"It just makes things harder to grasp and a million times more complicated," Remus nodded. "He didn't say a thing about that part either?"

"Aside from making it significantly clear he wanted to be left alone?" James clarified. "No."

"Dumbledore used his former position as a Death Eater to grasp the upper hand and twisted him to agree with what he wanted," Sirius explained, looking annoyed. "I hate the little prick, but..."

"Sirius don't say that," Remus chided. "He's your brother, and maybe he made a few mistakes, but that doesn't change the fact he's all you have."

"Not true, I have you and James."

"Sirius you thought he was dead," Remus said slowly. "Now if you're going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that this doesn't effect you at all-"

"That's the plan, Moons."

"Alright," James rolled his eyes. "I understand Sirius' suspicion, because he _was_ a Death Eater and we can't just ignore that, but he also defected, a long time before anyone else did. He defied the Dark Lord before anyone; Regulus was the first to turn against him."

"Not that the snake knew," Sirius reminded, and Remus added his input.

"Self preservation is a Slytherin trait."

"So is cowardice."

"How much of a coward is he if he turned against the most dangerous wizard of the age?" James asked, then looked from Sirius to Remus. "I think I trust him."

"Well great, cuz you're going to be rooming with him for a while!" Sirius threw his arms above his head, and James sighed with another roll of his eyes.

"Sirius if the wards are as strong as you say, maybe it would do some good?" Remus offered. "It's barely been a year, but James is still winded when doing simple tasks, he's been stressed and on edge, and we can only help so much with Harry. It might be good for him to be somewhere that's actually safe, that no one knows about, where he doesn't have to worry about Death Eaters hunting him down for revenge."

"Moony I'm right here."

"Yes, better he stay hidden from Death Eaters," Sirius quickly agreed with heavily dripping sarcasm, "by staying in the same house as a bloody Death Eater. Flawless plan."

"Pads-"

"I'm just saying, if Dumbledore thinks he's still in danger-"

"- but Volde-twat is dead-"

"- doesn't matter, you heard Dumbledore-"

"- Dumbledore this and that, just marry him if you like him so much!"

"- he could come back to power-"

"- and my mother could marry a muggle-"

"- Harry is in danger as well-"

"The dark wizards won't touch anyone unless it's over my dead body-"

"GUYS!" James yelled, and two sets of startled eyes moved to him. "I am right here!"

"Sorry."

James sighed and shook his head. "Look, Dumbledore or not, the place is secure at least, and if it's for Harry," he looked at his son, who gave him a smile of delight, before looking back at his friends. "I can take care of myself, but I don't think Regulus would try anything."

"How can you be sure?" Sirius asked. "Mate, I get it, he's my brother and I wish I could trust him, but you don't just stop being a Death Eater."

"You're only saying that because no one ever has before," Remus drawled. "Regulus defected months before Halloween. This isn't like with Malfoy."

"How do we know?" Sirius asked, looking pained and turning his head to look at his best friend. "James how can you be sure we can trust him?"

James could hear it under his voice, that fear and paranoia, that _"what if"._ What if he betrays us. What if he's like Peter. James couldn't think that though. If anyone was the polar opposite of Peter, it was Regulus. How was he supposed to go about explaining why he trusted the kid, though? He couldn't very well tell Sirius he shared some unspoken but very dark thoughts with his younger brother.

_"See mate, when I looked in his eyes, I realized we were both suicidal, and if you can't bond over the mutual desire to die, then you can't bond over anything!"_

There was no way he could say that.

"Call it gut instinct," James decided finally, trying to rub away a smudge or food, maybe dirt, away from Harry's chin. "That house doesn't feel oppressive or dangerous in any way, it wasn't like Godric's Hollow. You felt it, didn't you?"

Sirius' face twisted up and he looked away, leaning forward and putting his chin in his hand, elbow against his knee as he grumbled.

"Even if Regulus' loyalty is a bit dubious, his magic is nothing to scoff at. Remus you should've seen it, felt it. The protective spells, the enchantments, the charm on his home. It was amazing. It felt like a different world. You of all people would be fascinated to see it."

"I don't like it," Sirius mumbled, and James patted his back.

"Even if we all agreed that Regulus was an untrustworthy worm, Dumbledore made the decision. We've got no say. Sure we can argue, but after what happened before?"

He couldn't finish, Remus took over for him. "After what happened before, Dumbledore wouldn't want to take any chances. If he thought this place was safe enough for James and Harry, if he believes Regulus to be trustworthy, then we need to have faith in the man."

"We can protect them fine," Sirius argued half heartedly. "Better than Regulus could."

"Don't pout, Padfoot," James reached over to rub Sirius' head. "You're still my favorite Black."

That actually seemed to lift his spirits a bit, and he sat up just as Harry started squirming, swiveling back and forth trying to look everywhere at once, rocking forward and back to look around James only for the couch behind him to block his view, making his little face twist.

James laughed at his son, who looked puzzled. "What are you doing, bud?"

Harry lifted up his green eyes to James, who felt himself shatter from both the color and his next words. "Where mumma?"

The room was silent, James' smile felt like a broken shard of glass, and it took him a minute to say anything, unable to look around at his friends.

"She's not here right now, kiddo."

Harry looked disappointed, and Sirius reached over to slot his hands under the toddler's armpits, scooping him up. "Hey, hey! Uncle Pads is here!"

Harry squealed and James' smile quivered as he stood up, grateful for the reprieve. "Bathroom."

Honestly he didn't know why he was lying when the shake in his voice was so painfully obvious. Remus and Sirius already knew he was probably going to lock himself in and turn the faucet on, as if the sound of running water would drown out the sound of his sobs. He'd done it so many times the past few months, it would be weirder if they hadn't realized that's what he'd been doing.

Curled up on the floor half draped over the side of the bathtub, face buried in his arms and glasses somewhere on the floor, shoulders wracking in agony and hand fisted around a single gold wedding band. Why had this happened? It wasn't fair.

Lily had been so good, so perfect. She never asked for this. She wasn't born with any knowledge of her powers, but if she'd just been a muggle like her family this never would have happened. If she'd turned James down one last time, if James had just stopped pursuing her, had given up, she'd still be alive.

It was Peter's fault. It was Sirius' fault. It was Dumbledore's fault. It was James' fault.

It was Regulus' fault?

Everyone. It was everyone's fault. Why couldn't Lily have just backed down? His sobs grew harsher, because that thought had dared to enter his mind. Lily would hate him, for even considering trading Harry for her. He would never. He loved Harry so much. But he was lonely, he was hurting, he wanted her back, he wanted to die. Why couldn't Sirius have just left him on the stairs to die of the curse cast against him? His chest still ached, growing more painful the longer he cried.

Sometime during his breakdown he must have passed out, because he woke up to a warm hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair, shaking him gently.

"Lily?"

"Remus," was the whispered correction, and James buried his face back into his arms. "Come on, James. Let's get you cleaned up and in bed."

The faucet turned off and Remus forced his head up, wiping his face clean with a cold rag before grabbing his arm and hauling him to his feet, dragging his arm around his shoulders. James stumbled, his vision was blurry and his eyes stung, so he just went along with Remus as he was brought into the bedroom he'd been given and helped onto the bed.

His face was in his pillow, but his ears picked up the little tap as Remus set his glasses on the bedside table, then pulled off his shoes and dragged the covers over him, a hand in his hair again.

"We'll get through this with you, Prongs. If you need us, we'll just be outside. Harry is fine, Sirius is distracting him. Just sleep."

He wished he could. He wished he could sleep like he used to, just black out and forget, but as he faded to unconsciousness while the door shut, he found himself awake in another home, hand clinging tight to the banister as he stood on the stairs of the cottage in Godric's Hollow. He barely saw the door broken open and the hooded figure, the bright green light and the wood splintering. Then he heard it, Lily screaming, Harry crying, Voldemort's high and cold laughter.

James couldn't move, but the sound of the door creaking open had his muscle memory jump starting. His wand, he needed his wand, eyes snapping open and vision a mess without his glasses. There was a blur of shadows at the door, and he moved fast, dragging his wand from under his pillow and waving it with a jerk of his arm, pure panic fueling him.

_"Diffindo!"_

"Whoa!" the shadow threw himself to the side as the door was severed in half. "Mate, it's me!"

James gasped. "Sirius? Oh God, oh Merlin," he dropped his wand, fumbling for his glasses and shoving them onto his face to see his friend pushing himself off the floor. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry."

"No, Prongs, it's okay," Sirius assured, watching James in worry. "Are you okay? I woke you up didn't I?"

"I could've hurt you. Did I-"

"You missed, it's fine. Can't aim for shit without your glasses."

James gave a heavy exhale and dropped his face into his hands, pushing his glasses onto his head and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"James, it's okay," Sirius tried to soothe, walking over and sitting beside him on the bed, running a hand across his shoulders in an attempt to relax him. "I was just coming to check in on you. Bad dream?"

James gave a single nod. "What time is it?"

"Morning," Sirius answered, and James dragged his hands off his face to stare at him in surprise. "Yea, you really slept. Remus and I decided to let you, so you missed dinner. Probably hungry, yea?"

James noted the chasmic emptiness in his gut and mumbled an agreement, pulling his glasses back down onto his face and following Sirius out of the bedroom and into the small kitchen where a little square table was set up. There were three seats and a highchair around it, where Harry was already sitting looking half awake, though he brightened when he noticed James and reached out with hands that curled and uncurled in a sign he wanted to be held.

James complied, scooping his son from the highchair and plopping himself into one of the other seats, looking around the London flat where he'd been living with Remus, Sirius and Harry since he'd been released from the hospital back in December.

It wasn't big, or fancy, and it was very simplistic. The front door lead directly into the kitchen, which also acted as the dining area, an island counter separating the kitchen utilities from the meager living area that consisted of two couches, a fireplace, a coffee table, and an old radio. There were bookshelves stuffed with books, toys for Harry scattered around the carpet, and a glass door directly across from the front door that lead onto a balcony.

There were three bedrooms and a bathroom, Harry was usually juggled between them, his crib rolled into whichever bedroom he'd be staying in depending on how tired the other two men were. He didn't seem to mind being moved around a bit, but James sometimes found himself missing the nursery that he, Lily, and his dear friends spent so much time decorating.

It was very Muggle-like, Remus said, which was good. They were lucky that the landlord was a Squib and familiar with magic, not complaining about the protective spells that Remus would regularly cast over their apartment, saying as long as they kept their magical activities down to a minimum, and paid rent on time, they could stay as long as they wanted.

Hidden smack in the middle of Muggle London, James was grateful to have Remus around to do most of the dealings outside the apartment and handle the Muggle money, which baffled both he and Sirius. The landlord wasn't as bitter about them being wizards as they'd expected when they moved in, even seemed friendly with Dumbledore, who set up the flat for them with a bit of help from the Order.

After Halloween, Remus and Sirius had both been removed from their previous safe houses and relocated with James and Harry into this newly established flat. Dumbledore explained it would be better for them to stick together, for James and Harry's sake while James was recovering. James got the feeling Dumbledore was trying to make up for his mistakes, in his assumption that Sirius was untrustworthy and Remus a threat, by keeping them together for the time being.

Things had been fine since moving in. The days were long and the nights even longer. James still didn't really know why he'd gone down so hard and why he was still recovering, as people kept telling him he was. Remus and Sirius had grown insufferable in their insistence that at least one of them be with James at all times. It wasn't like this had been his first near death experience, they'd all had many close calls before, but something about the Dark Lord being the one to directly attack James before murdering Lily, really set his friends off.

James had to note it again, that everything had been fine: calm, quiet, peacful for the most part. The flat was safe, and nothing would be able to get past Remus and Sirius at their best (and most pissed off). So he couldn't help wondering why Dumbledore wanted to move them yet again, this time to an even heavier warded home. The only thing he could think of was the theory he always had when something seemed slightly off.

Voldemort's Death Eaters were on the move again, and this time with a goal.

James supposed it was no surprise. Harry, somehow, in his tiny body, held a power that took out the most despicable dark wizard in their world. His supporters were angry, they wanted revenge, they wanted Harry, and Dumbledore wanted him safe. James did too. He would do anything if it meant his son would be safe.

"Morning," Remus greeted when he exited one of the bedrooms, looking more awake than James felt, "How are you feeling? Heard some banging earlier, are you okay?"

"Almost killed Sirius."

"Why? What did he do this time?"

"Oy!" Sirius yelled from the bathroom, and James snorted, trying to smooth the impossible cowlicks at the back of Harry's head.

"He didn't do anything, I just... woke up."

"Are you okay?" Remus asked again, and James tried to nod.

"I'm okay too, thanks for asking," Sirius said as he walked out of the bathroom and took the seat across from James. "Have we been summoned yet?"

"Not yet," Remus answered, taking the final seat and reaching for the mug of tea that had been sitting there already. "I think we have enough time to eat and take showers before Dumbledore shows up."

"I have to wonder what his exact plan is," James said. "From what I remember of yesterday, there was only one bedroom in that little cottage, and it takes time to expand and transfigure an entire house. Dumbledore doesn't really expect Regulus to do it in just a few hours, does he?"

"I never know what that man is thinking," Sirius said through his toast, and Remus squinted at him before turning to James.

"Are all of us going?"

"Yet another thing the Professor failed to mention," James sighed, standing to return Harry to his highchair before sitting back down and reaching for his plate. "I hope so. Honestly, with everything that's happened, and with Harry, I don't know what I'd do without you two."

Sirius looked pained. "I really hate the idea of being in the same house as that prickly little codpiece, but I'll stay with you to help how I can. For Harry and for you."

"I have no reservations against Regulus, but the second part of that I agree with," Remus said. "I just don't like the idea of us being separated right now."

James silently agreed with that and busied himself with eating in companionable silence that Sirius occasionally yawned through and Harry babbled against. Eating in silence was a new normal for them. It wasn't like none of them had anything to say, they just tended to get lost in their thoughts more often than not.

Sirius lamented that he was getting old, but Remus rebounded by telling him to _shut the hell up you're only twenty-two._

It was James who really stayed quiet these days. He wasn't himself and he knew it. They all knew it. He couldn't bring himself to join the conversation sometimes, just saying a few words could drain him, and smiling left him feeling cold. He was pretty sure the echoes of Voldemort's curse had nothing to do with it, either. He was depressed, and it was the absence of any feeling or emotion that always had him eating in silence, or sitting in silence, trying to get into the conversation, trying to remember what it felt like to feel something, anything.

His friends were impossibly patient with him, and sometimes their understanding was unbearable. They'd lost Lily as well, maybe not the same way, but they lost their friend, and they lost Peter, and they were just grateful they hadn't lost James or Harry, but sometimes it was like they didn't even mourn. James was in constant mourning, but Remus was calm and soothing and Sirius always had a hand ready to set on his shoulder and a dry joke to try and make him laugh. James wished they would cry, or yell, blame James for not protecting Lily, but they just didn't!

All the times James snapped at them in the past few months, out of nowhere just yelling and screaming out of character, then sobbing pathetically, and they never condemned him for it. It was painful. Sometimes he wondered what he'd done to earn their unwavering love and loyalty.

Sometimes he wondered what he'd done to lose Peter's.

Food eaten, showers taken, they were in the living area when the fireplace came to life in green flame and spit Albus Dumbledore out into their flat, standing from the couches to greet him.

"We didn't really know what to pack-" Remus started, and Dumbledore waved a hand dismissively.

"It'll be taken care of."

"Professor I have to ask," James started, Harry propped on his hip. "Are all of us being relocated?"

"Just you," that immediately made James uneasy, and Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore quickly continued before he could curse. "However, this flat has been given a direct link to the new safe house. The only way there is through the floo network, and your fireplace here is the only one that will lead to the cottage. So, while you will be moved, Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin will have a direct route to you at all times."

"Seems pointless to me," Sirius started, and Remus stepped in front of him.

"Is it safe?"

"Oh yes, very safe," Dumbledore answered. "Though for now it would be best to take a bus. We can't exactly floo or apparate with little Harry."

That was all Dumbledore said before herding the four of them outside into the back alley, sticking out his wand to summon the Knight Bus, because there was no faster route. After giving directions to their destination, Dumbledore took a seat, yet it was still twenty minutes before they were getting off the bus and watching it speed away in a blue blur.

"This is it?" Remus asked, looking around in a state of awe. "It's very small; but quiet, out of the way."

"Regulus' home is this way," James pointed, and Remus followed.

The minute he saw the cottage, Remus asked a question that had been nagging James since the day before. "I know the Black family is wealthy, but considering Regulus has been dead on paper for a while now, how did he manage to snag this place?"

"An excellent question," Sirius mumbled. "Maybe he murdered a muggle and took their home."

"As I understand it, after asking the people in town, this building has been abandoned for thirty years," Dumbledore said as he tapped the top of the gate three times, "and as far as they are concerned it is still abandoned."

"Muggle repelling charms," Remus noted to Sirius, who had been standing there looking confused.

Dumbledore tapped the same nine piece design into the door before stepping aside, and Sirius took the knob before pushing it open, the five of them collecting in the entry. James was under the impression it wouldn't be big enough for four full grown men and a toddler, but as soon as the door shut he was proven wrong, mouth agape as he stared at the interior of the cottage.

Regulus had gotten to work it seemed, transfiguring and reforming the house, extending it. It looked generally the same as it had the day before, and the exterior hadn't changed an inch, but there was now a staircase to the right that lead up to a second floor landing, and James could see three doors just from where he stood.

"Merlin's beard," Sirius hissed as Remus wandered deeper to gape around.

"Wow. Regulus did all this?"

"It was smaller yesterday."

"I did request he expand it to accommodate you," Dumbledore reminded, and James gave him a puzzled expression.

"Well yes, but I thought it would take him longer."

"Ah Mr. Potter, have faith in your fellow wizard."

"Not saying I don't, but..."

"Where is he?" Remus asked from the kitchen door. "He didn't fix it up then run, did he?"

"To be honest? Wouldn't be surprised if he did," James muttered, taking Harry's hand and squeezing to keep him from grabbing any of the herb bundles hanging from the ceiling.

"He is here," Dumbledore assured, and as if to prove him right, the doors that lead to the study, which James had yet to see, opened.

Regulus appeared a bit more casual than he had the day before, the cloak was gone and the twigs and leaves cleaned away, leaving him in a long sleeved high necked shirt and black trousers. He had the same expression of irritated inconvenience as he met Dumbledore's eye, then James, glaring back at the headmaster and struggling not to scowl.

"Is it enough for you?" he asked, and Dumbledore had his hands together in delight.

"Absolutely marvelous my boy, you are truly a wonder!"

Regulus didn't fall for the flattery, keeping one hand on the door as he narrowed his eyes and looked at James, who felt paralyzed as if by mercury caught in the silver of his glare.

"Two bedrooms, up the stairs, do what you want to them. Stay out of the first floor rooms or I'll hex your eyes from your face."

With that, he retreated into his study, James just barely managed to catch sight of the corner of a book case, a cauldron, and what looked like it could have been a pensieve, before the door was shut and locked.

The room was silent, broken when Dumbledore turned to beam at James, whom he was closest to. "What a delightful young man."

James' lips quivered. Sometimes he didn't know if Dumbledore was the most sarcastic wizard he ever met, or was genuine in his statements, because Regulus was the furthest thing from delightful you could probably get.

"I'll have your things brought to you," Dumbledore said as he made his way towards the fireplace, taking a pouch from his robes and pulling out a pinch of powder before setting the rest on the mantle. "Make yourself at home."

He tossed the powder into the cold coals and the green fire flared, allowing him to step into it and disappear. The three men were left staring after him, and James turned his head when Sirius mumbled.

"Easy for him to say when this isn't even his house."

"He looked _different_ than what I remember," Remus said staring at the closed study doors. "I know it's been a while, but..."

"He grew his hair out," James tried to offer, giving Sirius a half grin. "Seems to take care of it unlike another Black I know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded, hands lifting to his hair.

"Well if you're going to grow it wild to defy your family image, at least take care if it."

"No, that's not what I meant," Remus said before Sirius could snap at James, a pout on his face. "I mean yes, I've never seen it that long on him, it's probably longer than Sirius', but I meant he looked, I don't know, unwell? He's pale, looks unsteady."

"Are you surprised?" Sirius asked incredulously, while simultaneously looking alarmed. "Considering what the fool was into."

"I think you're missing the point."

"I thought he looked a bit wrong yesterday," James admitted. "Maybe he's sick?"

"What? Who cares?" Sirius looked between them quickly. "Anyway, I didn't see anything wrong with him."

"Would you have?" Remus asked, disappearing into the kitchen before he could be answered.

Sirius and James followed, James after casting a quick look at the study door. Remus was looking through the fridge and the cupboards, frowning.

"He's got the bare minimum here," he said, shutting the fridge and leaning against the counter. "Does he ever go shopping?"

"Moons, I hate to break it to you, but we know as much about this as you do," Sirius said, and Remus pushed away from the counter.

"Well, we'll have to go to the store and stock up. Can't have Harry and James starving here." Sirius hummed and Remus looked at James. "I'll take Sirius, he seems antsy anyway."

"I'm not."

"You see about the rooms upstairs. Harry looks tired."

"It is about time for his nap," James agreed, rubbing Harry's back as the toddler rubbed at his eyes.

"We'll have tea when we get back," Remus patted Sirius on the arm to get him to move despite his protests. "Maybe try talking to him. If you're going to be here for a while, you might as well."

"I don't know if I can," James followed his friends to the front door. "I don't remember him being very talkative back in school, and it doesn't seem like much as changed."

"No kidding," Sirius piped, and Remus glanced at the study doors.

"Well, if anyone can get him to talk, it's you, James."

"Thanks. I think.

"We'll be back."

James watched them leave, shutting the door behind them before turning and looking around the interior of the house with a slow sigh.

"Right," he started, eyes inevitably landing on the study doors, but tearing them away to look at the staircase. "What do you think, Harry? Wanna check out our new room?"

Harry made a noise that sounded like words, or an attempt at them, and James nodded wisely.

"I completely agree. It is naptime."


	4. Chapter 4

The upstairs bedrooms were bare and simple, and at first glance James could tell Regulus hadn't spent much time fixing them, but the fact he still managed to do this much in the time frame given was absolutely astounding. There were two bedrooms, both with identical walls, floors, windows, beds, closets, bedside tables and dressers, exactly the same right down to the color of the bed skirts. Meanwhile the bathroom held a shower, a sink, a toilet, and nothing else.   
  
That was fine though. James was excellent at Transfiguration, if he wanted to make things more homey then he could do it without any problems. For now, the beds were comfortable and the curtains cancelled out a good portion of the light from outside, so James settled Harry in the middle of the bed, choosing the room to the far left of the stairs, and bundled the blankets around him so he wouldn't roll off before taking his cloak and covering his son with it like a blanket, hoping the scent would keep him calm and sleeping soundly.

For a long moment he just sat there in silence, watching Harry sleep, trying to wrap his head around the situation. It seemed if Dumbledore got his way, then James would end up being in that house for a while. Something was going down that was worrying Dumbledore, something that made him believe James was still in danger, that Harry was still in danger.

It put a bad taste in his mouth, what Dumbledore said about Harry being special. That was fine, James thought he was special too, but the way Dumbledore said it, the gleam in his eyes, made James anxious.  _ Why _ was Harry special? Why was Dumbledore so intent on keeping him safe when he barely tried the first time around? What was the point of it all?

There was so much that Dumbledore clearly wasn't telling him, and James already knew he would get nowhere by asking him for direct answers, the man had always been vague and secretive. The only person he could possibly get answers from was the one person likely more difficult to talk to than Dumbledore. James had no other alternative at this point, though. He wanted to know what a Horcrux was, what it had to do with he and his son, why Dumbledore thought Voldemort was still out there somewhere.

James kept his palm against his chest as he stood up, keeping his eye on Harry as he backed out of the room and leaving the door open so he could hear him if he started to cry. He hiked down the stairs slowly, quietly, and paused at the last step, shoulders tense as he stared at the closed doors that lead into the study. One hand tapped against his thigh a moment, before he turned and made his way into the kitchen.

Lily used to say that the best way to start a conversation was with a cup of tea, that one of her favorite school memories was sharing a pot of Earl Grey with Professor Slughorn while discussing his classes. James was sceptical, but figured he may as well try it.

He made two cups, carrying them out to the study and standing in front of the door for a good three minutes before taking a breath, balancing both cups in one hand so he could knock. 

“Alright in there, Regulus?” He waited for an answer, receiving none and not surprised, so he reached down to the handle on the right door to test it.

Remarkably, it was open, so James slowly pushed it open, poking his head into the room and inching into it, slowly looking around with wide eyes.

It felt different than the rest of the house. There were bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling like out in the living area, but more condensed, it was almost hard to pick out the ceiling from between the leaves and stems. There was a bay window built into the far right corner, but the glass was foggy, the window seat covered in cushions and open books that had been thrown there.

The right wall was entirely shelf space, built into the wall itself, stuffed with books that James marvelled at, because Regulus had been dead and in hiding for ages now, when did he have the time to collect all of these? In between the books were little items that James could feel enchantments emanating from, and decided quickly he didn't want to touch them.

The far wall across from the double doors was built with more shelf space, a small stone fireplace with a cauldron sitting in the cold coals, and like James had assumed, a pensieve, currently empty, sitting on a pedestal in a cabinet.

The left wall was more bare, and included a closed door that likely lead to the room beside this one that James figured was Regulus’ bedroom. Next to the door was a large roll top desk covered with parchment, ink bottles, quills, books, and loose bundles of leaves. Regulus was sitting there, hunched over the desk with a quill in hand.

His black hair was tied back to show the furrow of his brow and the narrow of his eyes, his lips thin. The feather of the quill wavered as he scribbled, his eyes seemed glassy, and James wondered if he'd heard him enter the room at all.

“Regulus?” James whispered for some reason, like he didn't want to interrupt the younger Black, shuffling closer and reaching out his hand, letting it hover over Regulus’ shoulder but not touching, raising his voice a bit. “Reg?”

Regulus jerked violently in his seat, practically falling out of it and backing up, arms raised in defense. James was frozen in shock at the panic on his face that quickly filtered into anger.

“I thought I told you if you messed with any of the rooms down here that I'd hex you?”

“Oh, you meant this room too?” James asked, standing straighter and holding out both cups. “I made tea. Was hoping, you know, maybe we could talk.”

Regulus just scowled. “Don't get the wrong idea, Potter. Just because I'm letting you stay here doesn't mean we're friends. I have no choice in the matter but to allow it. That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. Get out of my study.”

“Okay… listen I understand, and I'm as annoyed and confused as you are, but if I'm going to be here for a while-”

“I said get out!” Regulus pushed his chair aside to storm at James, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to the open door. “Dumbledore can take whatever he wants, my freedom and my security, but he can't just take my privacy like that!”

“He's not!  _ I'm _ not, I'm just trying to be polite! Look, I wanted to talk to you!”

“Get. Out.” Regulus shoved him into the living area, and James spun around, sticking a foot into the door jam as the other man tried to slam it closed.

They ended up glaring at each other between the gap in the door, and James leaned forward. “Tell me what a Horcrux is,” something flickered in Regulus’ eyes. “That thing you gave Dumbledore. What was it? Why is it so important? Why is Dumbledore so convinced Vol- the Dark Lord will return? He died! What do you think? Do you believe him?”

Regulus seemed to be shaking, and James saw something break in his eyes, saw vulnerability through the cracks in Regulus’ walls. “I just wanted to be left alone,” he hissed. “Why couldn't you people have just left me alone? You were so good at it back in school, but suddenly I have something you want and you want to be my friend?”

“Don't be stupid,” James glared. “I still don't want to be your friend. My son is in danger and no one is telling me anything. It's my job to protect him, so I want to know what I'm protecting him from. Dumbledore won't tell me anything, you know how that feels don't you?”

Regulus had his head bowed, hands clinging to the door. “A Horcrux is an object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality,” he said in a soft voice, barely a whisper, like he was giving away forbidden information.

Honestly, it sounded like a joke, and James laughed, the smile falling when Regulus lifted his eyes up. With a sick feeling in his gut, he remembered what Dumbledore said the day they found Regulus. 

_ How do you kill something immortal? By finding what made him immortal in the first place, and reversing it. _

“You're not kidding,” Regulus dropped his eyes again, James hesitated. “I've never heard of that kind of magic before.”

“You wouldn't have.”

“So how do you know about it? How did you find it in the first place?”

“I already told you,” Regulus lifted his glare yet again, but it seemed wary and weak. “I'm a coward. I stuck my nose where it didn't belong, sabotaged him, then ran away.”

James felt as weak as Regulus looked, just the word Horcrux made him feel nauseous, and he swallowed around the knot in his throat. “Are there more? How do we reverse it? How do we destroy them?”

He expected an answer, he expected Regulus to scoff at his ignorance, but instead he just curled into himself, hands sliding down the door as he whispered. “I don't know.”

James opened his mouth to say more, but Regulus kicked his foot out of the way and slammed the door closed. There was a click, but James still reached down to test it. Locked.

He ended up sitting on the couch, one of the cups of tea sitting on the coffee table as he clung to the sides of the other, letting the burn of the ceramic bite into his fingers and palms and not letting his grip loosen even when it started to become painful. He needed it, that bit of pain, as he stared at the carpet and thought over the tiny bit of information he'd managed to uncover.

Voldemort was dead though. He disappeared, his body was destroyed. If that locket had really been a Horcrux, then it held a fragment of Voldemort's soul. He wasn't dead yet, not really, and he wouldn't be until the damn thing had been destroyed.

It wouldn't even be that simple, though. Dumbledore had expressed his concern that Voldemort had made more than one Horcrux. As long as those items existed, then there was a chance, no, it was an inevitability, that Voldemort would come back.

James didn't even realize he'd let go of the cup until Remus and Sirius returned an hour later with shopping bags. They were snickering at something when they walked in, but stopped dead when they saw James sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, holding his hands open, mug spilling cold tea onto the carpet at his feet.

“James? Are you okay?” Remus moved towards him, picking up the cup and waving his wand to clean up the tea as Sirius shut the door and took a seat beside James.

“I know what a Horcrux is now,” James said it in a voice that didn't quite sound like him.

His friends were quiet for half a moment before Remus sat on his other side, a hand on his shoulder. “You managed to talk to Regulus a bit?” James nodded numbly. “What is it then?”

James felt dizzy. How was he supposed to tell them that the Dark Wizard who murdered so many of their friends, tried to murder Harry, was essentially just on vacation and will be back as soon as he could to finish off the rest of them? He couldn't. 

“I don't feel well,” James said, standing up. “I'm going to lie down.”

“Sure,” Remus said it gently. “Sirius and I will make dinner and put all this away. Go get some rest, let us know if you're in any physical pain.”

James nodded, but honestly no matter how many times Remus said that, James never did. He was in physical pain because his chest ached constantly, he was in emotional pain because he just couldn't handle it anymore, and he never said a word about it, because why did it matter?

He laid himself down slowly, wincing, pulling his glasses off and setting them on the bed next to his wand before wrapping his arms around Harry, who was still fast asleep, instinctively clinging to James when he'd been pressed against his chest. James played with his messy hair for a bit before shutting his eyes and begging for sleep, for some relief.

He dreamt of green lights and screaming, of lockets that whispered and spit black smoke from its seam, and of Regulus, standing on an island of rough cut stone surrounded by black water, clinging to the edges of a crystal basin that held a cloudy green liquid.

His head lifted, his eyes met James, his lips parted in a whisper.  _ “We should be dead.” _ He turned his eyes down to the sickly green liquid.  _ “Why aren't we dead?” _

He woke with a start from the little hands on his shoulder pushing him, but managed to keep his calm as he reached out for his glasses, looking in tired amusement at his son as he tugged on him.

“Hey bud. Have a bad dream?”

Harry just opened his mouth, and for a terrifying moment James was expecting him to ask about Lily again, but he just bounced on his knees. “Suppa,” he said, and James snorted, turning his face into the pillow. 

“Hungry. Right.” He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing his glasses onto his face before standing up and picking Harry off the bed. “Let's see what your uncle's have fixed up.”

Sirius and Remus were both seated at the kitchen when he walked in, looking up at James when they heard him.

“Feeling any better?”

“I… yea,” James said, sitting down and handing Harry to Sirius when the two year old reached for him. “How long was I sleeping?”

“A few hours,” Remus answered.

“What have you two been doing?”

“Putting the groceries in the fridge, deciding what to make for supper. We think we could just make sandwiches and eat in the backyard while the sun is still up.”

“Sounds great.”

“I tried talking to Regulus,” Remus said, and Sirius snorted, earning a glare.

“How did that go?” James asked, and Remus shook his head.

“Pretty much nowhere. He didn't even answer me through the door when I asked if he was hungry.”

“Quit worrying over him, Moons, he's just being a little prick.” Sirius scoffed. “He's not important.”

“He probably has important information, Sirius,” Remus argued. “Not to mention he's your brother.”

“So?”

“Maybe try finding common ground with him?” Remus asked. “You thought he was dead.”

“Still is in my opinion.”

“Remus is right,” James said, arms folded and eyes locked on the edge of the table. “Regulus knew what a Horcrux was, there’s probably a lot more he could tell us about the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord to help us.”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a quiet look before focusing back on James. “How are we supposed to get him to talk then? We can't force him.”

“No, he has to trust us first,” James muttered, rubbing his jaw, “but he's skittish, I don't know how long it'll take to reach him. The only reason I managed to speak with him earlier was because he left the door open and I kind of just let myself in. He didn't appreciate it.”

“Start small then,” Remus muttered to himself, and Sirius rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh as the other man stood. “I'll try something.”

Sirius and James got up from their seats and followed, standing at the door to the living room and peering around it to watch Remus approach the double doors, looking back at them before lifting a fist and knocking.

“Regulus, it's Remus Lupin. You know, your brother's friend? We were going to eat supper out back if you'd like to join us? Sandwiches. Do you like ham? We also have peanut butter. It's mostly for Harry but if you prefer it you can have that instead?”

Silence. He turned to gape at his friends, cheeks red, and Sirius dropped his head with a snort as Remus shuffled awkwardly back into the kitchen, looking sheepish. 

“Well done.”

“Piss off.”

“Let's make food first,” James offered, waving his wand and transfiguring one of the seats around the table into a highchair, taking Harry from Sirius and securing him into it. “Sirius what kind of food does Regulus like?”

“Caviar. Steelhead Salmon. The blood of his enemies.”

“Sirius.”

“Fuck, mate, why would I remember?”

“He's your brother.”

“James it's been at least seven years since I had an actual conversation with him, I do not remember what he liked to snack on when obsessing over Death Eaters.”

“He's not like that anymore, Pads.”

“Say what you want, I still don't trust him.”

“I'll just make him both,” James said, following Remus to the fridge. “What do you want?”

“Tuna.”

“Ewe, I fucking hate you.”

They set the finished sandwiches on a plate and placed it on the table, staring down at it for a moment before both James and Remus turned their heads to Sirius, who looked dumbstruck.

“Why me?!”

“He might respond to you,” Remus explained. “You are his brother.”

“Quit saying that as if it matters! He's not gonna respond to me as of I'm special! He hates me like I hate him!”

James picked up a second plate and set a sandwich on it, holding it out for Sirius. “Then I guess you have to do this as a challenge. You're the most likely out of all of us to reach him.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“You're the only one who can enter the protective field around the property without using magic,” James explained. “That's gotta mean something.”

James thought he saw hope flicker in Sirius’ eyes before he pouted with a glare and took the plate.

“Fine, but don't expect much.”

Remus and James stood at the doorway as Sirius stormed up to the double doors leading into Regulus’ study, giving his two friends an irritated look before lifting a fist and punching the door.

“Oy! Open the door and eat something you little shit!”

Remus dropped his face into his hands as James set a hand on his shoulder. “We shouldn't have expected anything more, Moony.”

Sirius kicked the toe of his shoe against the bottom door jam. “It took eighteen hours and fifty house elves died making you this sandwich, so you better unlock this door and shove it down your throat! The sandwich, not the door! Shove the sandwich down your throat! Regulus, open the door! You're pissing me off!”

“I almost feel sorry for the kid,” Remus sighed, and James hummed.

Sirius kept the plate clutched in his left hand as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. “To hell with this,” he pointed it at the door handle.  _ “Alohamora!” _

He shoved the wand behind his ear and reached down to try the handle, but it wouldn't budge, and Sirius furrowed his brow, slowly retracting his hand.

“What the hell?” He pointed his wand down again.  _ “Alohamora! _ Why's this not working? Regulus I'm gonna  _ bombarda _ your door out of the wall if you don't open it!” He took a step back, both Remus and James started forward with their hands lifted. 

“Sirius maybe-”

“You got three seconds ya prick! One!”

“Maybe I should try talking to him again.”

“Shut up Remus, you guys are the ones who wanted me to do this. Two!”

“We didn't mean blast a hole in the wall!”

“Seriously mate there's probably explosive stuff in there.”

“Then he should open the door. Three!”

Remus and James lifted their arms as Sirius waved his wand up, the spell dying on his tongue as the door to the study swung open, Regulus standing there looking utterly furious.

For a moment Sirius just stood there, slowly lowering his wand, looking as if he absolutely  _ hadn't _ been expecting his brother to  _ actually _ come out of the room, and now that he had, was completely speechless. That didn't seem to impress Regulus, who bristled with every second nothing happened.

James broke the tension by striding forward and taking the plate from Sirius, walking it over to Regulus and holding it out. “Here, be as grumpy and reclusive as you want, you still need to eat.”

Regulus glared at the sandwich before glaring up at James. “I eat when I want, Potter. You can't just infest my house and break my routine like you're my parent. I'm not hungry. Eat it yourself.”

“But-”

The door shut in James’ face, and he huffed, turning but pausing and setting the plate on the floor beside the door.

“I'll just leave it here! In case you change your mind!”

When he turned, he couldn't help but to note the wince on Sirius’ face as he stared at the closed door, eyes quickly moving to James when he seemed to realize he was being watched.

“He didn't look right.”

James sighed and Remus opened his mouth to say something, cut off when Harry started babbling from the kitchen.

“Let's not worry too much,” Remus decided, turning and hurrying to retrieve Harry as his two friends followed. “Things will be weird for a while no doubt, but who knows? He might warm up to us in time if we're patient and stubborn.”

“We're good at the stubborn part,” James reassured, and Sirius snorted.

“Not so much patient.”

Remus took charge of carrying Harry as James took the plate of sandwiches and Sirius went in search of cups for the juice he and Remus had purchased earlier.

“We have time,” Remus said, but the frown on his lips was concerning. “We have plenty of time.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we're almost at the Jegulus, I PROMISE.

James’ mind was on Regulus as he sat on the steps outside the backdoor, watching Harry toddle around the grass with half a sandwich clenched in his left hand, his right hand fisted in the scruff of Sirius’ neck. Sirius, currently transformed into his Animagus form, was glued to Harry’s side and helping him walk.

“Do you think it’s smart of him to take that form when Regulus is just inside?” Remus asked from beside James. “He could come out and get suspicious, and Sirius was almost sent to Azkaban once already. If it’s discovered you and he are illegal Animagus-”

“I really don’t don’t think we have to worry about that,” James interrupted, rolling a glass of orange juice between his hands. “Coming outside to join us is likely the last thing Regulus would want to do, and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care one way or the other what laws we might be breaking.”

He lifted the glass to his lips, pretending he couldn’t feel Remus’ eyes on him, pretending to be surprised when Remus asked the inevitable.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” James set the glass on the steps near his feet, arms folded over his knees, not removing his eyes from his son as he released his hold on Sirius to crouch down and poke at something in the grass.

“Suppose I’ve been asking that a lot, haven’t I?” Remus sighed. “You know we’re both just worried about you.”

“I know you are, Moons, but I am fine,” James said stiffly, and the tense tone made it pretty clear that he was the opposite of fine. He felt bad for talking like that, for sounding angry, and tried to calm himself down, rubbing his eyes and shoving his glasses up into his hair in the process. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, James,” Remus said gently. “We get it. I get it. This is hard for you, and you’re trying to be strong for Harry, but this kind of thing takes a long time to heal from. You can’t just hold it all in, you need to get angry and go through the stages of grief.”

James dug the heels of both his hands as deep into his eyes as he could without rupturing them, nails digging into his scalp but hidden by his hair so Remus wouldn’t notice. He kept saying that, Sirius kept saying it too, that he had to go through the stages of grief, that it was okay if he didn’t feel strong, that he was allowed to scream and get angry and cry. It really pissed him off, even if he knew they meant well.

“You’ve been there for us through everything, James,” Remus insisted. “Let us be there for you, please. That’s literally all we want, is to be here, to help you, like you helped us.”

Loyalty. Did he even deserve it? Did they even mean it? Or were they going to end up like Peter? James knew he was pushing them away because he was hurting, surely they knew that too, because they were pushing back, but what if they got too tired of pushing back? What if James pushed them too far? What if this entire ordeal would simply end in him losing the only people he had left, because he was too scared to let himself heal? To forgive himself and let go of his guilt?

“Shut up, James,” he hissed at himself through clenched teeth, so quiet Remus likely hadn’t heard him.

James rubbed at his eyes and pulled his hands away, looking up to watch the blurry forms of his son and his best friend romp around the yard. Everything was peaceful, it was pleasantly warm and the air smelt fresh, James should have felt relaxed, safe, and he did, but there was a familiar tingle along the back of his neck. A warning that someone was there, watching them.

His head turned to the left instinctively, and he could see something black and blurry sitting on top of the stone cairn fence built around the perimeter of the yard surrounding the cottage. James lifted a hand to push his glasses down back onto his face, and a small black animal came into clarity. A fox, perched on the cairn and watching him with piercing silver eyes.

James reached out without breaking eye contact, smacking Remus a few times. “Mate. Moons. Moony. Look. Fox.”

“What? Stop hitting me, what are you doing?”

“There,” James pointed and turned his head to gape at Remus. “There’s a black fox over there, just sitting there staring at us.”

Remus arched an eyebrow and looked over at the cairn, shaking his head and shrugging. “I don’t see a fox.”

James turned with an argument on his tongue, frozen when he found the animal was gone. “No it was there, I saw it.” He turned to Remus. “I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t think you were, but you can’t just expect a fox to stay in one place,” Remus argued. “We are backing a forest you know, I’m sure all kinds of animals wander through here.”

James lowered his arm, staring over at the cairn. “Guess you’re right. Seemed weird is all. Aren’t foxes supposed to be discreet and good at hiding? It was just… sitting there.”

“Maybe it was your guardian angel or something,” Remus yawned, and James snorted at the tired attempt at a joke.

“Yea, knowing my luck, a black fox would definitely be my guardian angel.”

“Papa!” Harry was toddling towards James, the peanut butter and jam sandwich squished into his fist, something long and light brown in his other fist.

“What’s that you got there, Harry?” James asked in amusement that turned to panic when Harry stopped a few steps in front of him, brandishing the snake proudly.

To be fair, the snake looked as confused as James felt, hands lifted and choking as he struggled not to start cursing. Lily always scolded him when he cursed in front of Harry.

“What are you doing with that?” James managed to say weakly without slipping in a few “bloody”s and one or two “fuck”s like he really wanted to. “Snake.”

“Merlin’s pants, Harry!” Remus exclaimed, but Harry just smiled and pulled the snake closer, holding the smashed sandwich up towards the snake’s head.

Its tongue shot out as if to eat some of the peanut butter and jam, and seemed ultimately unbothered by the two year old holding it. Sirius was creeping closer, clearly tense, and James wouldn’t put it past him to snap the snake in half, but that would probably just end up scaring Harry, and James couldn’t have that.

“Remus, you’re smart,” James said. “Is that thing dangerous?”

“It’s a smooth snake, it’s totally harmless,” Remus said, and James felt exhaustingly relieved at that, leaning forward and reaching out with both hands.

“Can I have him, Harry?” he asked, and Harry looked at him curiously, holding the snake closer. “It’s okay bud, you can visit him whenever you come outside, but he belongs in the grass you know. He’ll be lonely stuck inside.”

Harry looked upset, but didn’t have the sentence structure, didn’t know enough words, to express himself, so he just stood there and moaned in disagreement. “Want.”

“Buddy snakes aren’t good pets,” James insisted, reaching out and taking the snake as Sirius nudged Harry with his nose, trying to distract him.

It worked, and Harry let go of the snake to instead turn and giggle as Sirius nuzzled his face. James turned and set the snake into the flower bed next to the steps, watching it slither away before sighing and turning, picking up his glass of juice and standing up.

“I think we’re done out here, that was fantastic.”

“Kid is certainly fearless,” Remus muttered, picking up the rest of the dishes and getting up with James. “You’re in charge of getting him inside, Padfoot!”

A half hour later and Harry was slumped on the couch with Remus, half asleep with his head on Remus’ lap as the man flipped through one of the many books Regulus had on the shelves out in the living room. Sirius and James were in the kitchen putting away dishes and cleaning up the best they could.

James was somewhat grateful for both the reprieve from his energetic son, and for the moment alone with Sirius, who he’d been wanting to talk with privately. They hadn’t been able to really discuss Regulus, or how Sirius actually felt about the situation, but up until a few hours ago, Sirius had believed his brother to be dead. Worse than that, he’d believed him dead and a Death Eater, loyal to the man who’d murdered Lily and tried to murder James. Now suddenly, he wasn’t. James knew Sirius, he knew it was going to take a while for him to wrap his head around it, but he wasn’t an idiot, even if he acted like he was for amusement; and he did care.

“Are you doing alright?” James asked, taking the plate Sirius handed him and turning to return it to the cupboard as Sirius hummed.

“Shouldn’t I be asking that?”

“I’m not the one whose brother came back from the dead.”

“Well he was never dead in the first place was he?”

“That’s kind of my point.” James turned to Sirius, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. “You have every right to be upset.”

“Why would I be upset?” Sirius asked, and he certainly did sound calm. “Not like I expect anything from him. Not that I care at all. So he faked his death, so what? I don’t care.”

James arched an eyebrow and watched Sirius scrub at a plate that was already clean, bowing his head and reaching up to pull his glasses off, cleaning them on his shirt. “Do you remember in first year, when you first told me about your family?”

“Do you mean how I told you they were all insane?”

“No, you didn’t decide that for a while.” James shook his head. “No eleven year old says they hate their family. You loved them all. That’s what made it so confusing to me, when you wouldn’t open the letter your mother sent you the morning after the Sorting Ceremony. You were scared of her but you still loved her, because you were eleven, and all any eleven year old wants is their mother.” He pushed the glasses back onto his face, Sirius had stopped washing the plate. “All you talked about was Regulus. You wrote him letters every day. He never wrote back that I remember-”

“Because he hated me as much as I hated him,” Sirius interrupted, washing the soap suds off the plate and grabbing a rag to dry it.

“Don’t tell me you still believe that? Odds are when your mother found out what house you were sorted into, she threatened him not to contact you. Someone who writes to his brother every day is not someone who hates that brother. He didn’t hate you either.”

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish with this conversation?” Sirius asked, handing James the dry plate.

“Come off it, Sirius, aren’t you even a little bit happy? You thought he was dead, you thought he was evil, but he’s not, he’s good and he’s alive and you have a chance to reconnect with him. Don’t you miss your brother at all?”

“No. No I don’t.”

James rolled his eyes and put the final dish away before turning back to look at Sirius, shutting the cupboard without looking. “Whether you like it or not he’s still your brother, and I think if there’s even the slightest chance-”

“James why are you being so insistent, it isn’t your family that’s messed up, it’s mine, and I’m fine with that! I don’t care! Why are you so convinced that the fool’s good now?”

“Because _you’re_ good, Sirius, and my son and I are supposed to be stuck here for Merlin knows how long, so forgive me if some part of me still clings to the hope that your influence may have rubbed off on your brother at least a little!”

“That’s exactly why I don’t like this! He’s a Death Eater, James, Death Eater’s don’t just turn good!”

“Then maybe he was always good, have you ever considered that?”

“Merlin’s sake! Next you’re gonna tell me Peter only did what he did because he was, what, tortured into it, and you forgive him?”

“This isn’t about _him,_ Sirius!”

“James,” Sirius lowered his voice, reaching out to squeeze James’ shoulder. “Death Eaters don’t stop being Death Eaters.”

“And the world isn’t black and white,” James said back. “As messed up as this world is, it isn’t split straight down the middle, it isn’t made up of just good people and Death Eaters, it's not just us and them, there are gray areas. It can be really hard to do the right thing sometimes, but what separates us is the choices we make, and Regulus made a choice.”

“He made a choice to join Voldemort.”

“He made a mistake,” James argued. “In the end, he made a choice to defect, to work towards the Dark Lord’s defeat. That’s the choice that matters.”

Sirius looked like he was in pain. “People are dead,” he said. “Dorcas, Lily, Fabian, Gideon, Benjy, Edgar, Marlene; yet somehow my brother defecting makes that better?”

James felt like he’d been punched in the chest, it ached deep into his sternum and he was almost having trouble breathing as the familiar faces flashed in front of his eyes, smiling and laughing and oh so brave. Sirius was right, none of this was better. People died.

“I’m not saying we have to forget them. They were our friends, they’re _still_ our friends,” James said. “What I am saying is we don’t get a lot of good things these days. Shouldn’t we embrace it when it does happen?”

“And if this good thing turns out to be a fluke?” Sirius asked, and James stared at him before looking past him at the wall.

He had a pretty solid idea of what _he’d_ do, honestly, but Sirius probably wouldn’t like it.

“You’re doing it again,” Sirius said, and James met his eye.

“Doing what?”

“Holding your chest.” Sirius reached down to take James by the wrist, where he was holding his hand pressed to his sternum. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Sirius I can breathe fine,” James sighed, pulling his hand away from his chest and walking past his friend towards the doorway. “I’m tired. It’s been a long, exhausting day.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“Are you two done fighting?” Remus asked dully without looking up from his book. “I had to cast a silencing charm over Harry so he wouldn’t wake up.”

“Sorry,” James apologized, scooping Harry into his arms and cradling him against his shoulder, bouncing on his feet to keep him asleep. “I’m about to put him down now. Are you two-”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Sirius said quickly. “I don’t care what Dumbledore says, or what you say, we’re not leaving you and Harry alone in a house with a Death Eater.”

James wanted to protest, but decided against it. “Well there’s a second bedroom upstairs then.”

“I’ll take the couch,” Sirius decided, eyes locked on the double doors leading into his brother’s study. “Just in case.”

“In case what, he goes psychotic and tries to kill us?” Remus asked with as much dull enthusiasm as before, standing up with his book and reaching up to rub at his neck. “Whatever, might as well let him do what he wants.”

“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” James asked, and Remus shrugged one shoulder.

“Take your pick.”

“Goodnight, bloody git,” Sirius snapped after Remus, and James snorted.

“I’ll bring you a blanket and a pillow.”

“Thanks mate. You get some rest yourself, alright? Tell me or Moony if you start hurting or you can’t breathe at all.”

“Sure I will, Pads,” James tried to assure in a relaxed voice that Sirius nodded at, but when James turned his back and started for the stairs he dropped the smile and stared blankly at the floor.

Honestly if he ever woke up and realized he couldn’t breathe, he probably wouldn’t try to fix it. At this point? No. Sometimes it seemed like not breathing would be a lot better than what he was dealing with now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deepest apologies for the 4 month wait, I suck at this, but I'm already working on chapter 7 so maybe I'll actually be able to wrote and update faster! Wish me luck and enjoy the chapter!

The cottage in Godric's Hollow was empty, eerie. Sitting on the steps leading to the second floor, somehow James knew he was alone, knew it was a dream, yet another memory, but it felt so different than it usually did. It was all just a feeling in his chest, built in his throat, but something in him told him it was already over, Lily was dead and Voldemort had come and gone. He felt sick, the guilt was consuming, he could barely move, even when he heard footsteps behind him.

“It wasn't your fault.”

James took a sharp breath in, lifting his head and staring at the front door as he reached up to hold the railing, pulling himself to his feet and turning to look up the stairs. She looked exactly the same as that night, still in jeans and a button down floral shirt, one hand on the banister and a smile on her face.

“I tried to give you time to run,” James argued softly with her, unable to tear his attention from her green eyes. “I am so sorry.”

“James.”

“I should have died with you.” He started up the stairs, tried to reach her, pausing when he was halfway up the steps and shaking his head. “I can't do this, Lily.”

The smile looked almost artificial, and James doubted this was really Lily. Of course it couldn't be. Lily was dead. This woman was just the manifestation of his memories. This was the Lily he wanted to remember, sweet and smiling and always assured. The Lily that James knew would do everything she could to convince him it wasn't his fault. He knew that. That's why she was doing this.

“Lily-”

“You have Harry,” she said, still smiling. “You'll be alright.”

“You're only saying that because it's what I think you'd say.” James shook his head. “That doesn't mean it's true.”

“It's not over yet,” Lily warned, yet it felt half hearted with the plastic smile. “Harry needs you.”

“What about me?” James asked, ignoring the feeling of shame that made his chest ache, taking another step up. “I need you.”

Lily took a step back in response to James, then lifted her head to look past him, down the stairs. “Sometimes the only way to find yourself a reason to live, is to find someone suffering like you are.”

“What does that mean?” James asked, then turned to look down the stairs, his breath leaving in a rush when his eyes found the floor below had transfigured into a pool of black water.

The surface was still as glass, not a single ripple disrupted the water, and James stepped slowly down the stairs purely out of curiosity, clinging to the banister until he was at the last step.

“What is this?”

“Look closer.”

“At what?”

Lily chuckled. “The water, James.”

James slowly crouched down to look closer. He expected to be able to see the carpet just a few inches below, but instead he saw a seemingly endless black. The water was clearly much deeper than James had initially assumed, but he was self aware enough to know this was just a dream, and dreams didn't exactly have the same laws of reality as most things did.

“I don't see anything.”

“You're not looking close enough.”

Lily's voice sounded far away, as if she was leaving, and when James looked over his shoulder, he was startled to find she was no longer at the top of the steps. He stood quickly, intending to run up and find her, but fell before he could. His hands jerked in front of him to stop his face from crushing against the steps, then rolled onto his back to gape at the base of the steps where the water was roiling, an arm stuck out of the water and fingers wrapped around his ankle.

The skin was thin translucent white and sagging on visible bone, rotting and peeling, slime smearing on the bottom cuff of his jeans. The water roiled more violently, more hands shot out to claw at the steps, and James cursed, trying desperately to pull himself away, using his free leg to kick furiously at the other hands.

“No, no, no!”

“You just need to find something else to live for,” Lily's voice was behind him, right beside his ear, her hands covering his eyes before he had the chance to turn and look at her. “You're the kind of man who finds strength in the action of helping others, so do that.”

“Lily!”

He was submerged in water before he realized it, arms flailing and mouth gaping open, unable to breathe. He was sure he was dying, until his eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at the familiar, dull ceiling of his bedroom in Regulus Black’s cottage.

James took a deep breath in, his hand already on his chest and fingers digging into his shirt as his sternum ached against his breathing. His head spun as his sat up, wiping sweat from his face and blindly reaching for his glasses.

Harry was still asleep curled up beside him on the bed, James hoped moving wouldn't bother him, slowly standing from the bed and keeping his eyes on Harry until he left the room and moved to the bathroom. It took him a moment of splashing cold water onto his face and coughing a few times until he was certain he was awake and not still stuck in the throes of his dream.

The rest of the house was silent as James left the bathroom and descended the stairs, pausing on the final step and frowning when his eyes fell to the untouched plate of sandwiches still sitting in front of Regulus' study. For an instant James could hear Lily's voice in his ear, scolding the younger man for not eating or taking proper care of himself, and he could swear her residual energy was rubbing off on him, because all he wanted to do was sit Regulus down and nag him about eating proper meals and not being such a downer all the time.

He held back, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his words to himself and flicking his wand to send the plate into the kitchen. He stopped by the couch to check on Sirius before following, noting he was still fast asleep sprawled over the couch and snoring softly, one arm thrown over his eyes and the pillow on the ground, having fallen off sometime during the night. James pulled the blanket bunched around his waist back over him, making sure he was comfortable before moving into the kitchen to dump the untouched sandwiches into the trash and wash the plate.

It wasn't long before Remus joined him, looking more awake and aware than James felt. He eyed James with a frown for a moment before shaking his head.

"What's on your mind?"

"Huh?"

"You've been washing that plate for a good few minutes now."

"Have I?" James stared at the clean plate before quickly rinsing it and grabbing a towel. "Just making sure it's clean, right?"

James looked away so he wouldn't have to see the expression of pity on Remus' face, not even looking when the man set a hand on his shoulder. 

"Go sit outside, I'll make some tea. Fresh air will be good for you."

James didn't vocally answer, putting the plate away and turning without another thought, shuffling his feet as he left through the back door and sat down on the steps there, staring over the yard towards the trees.

He kept trying to remind himself that Remus, and Sirius too, were just worried about him, trying to take care of him so he didn't wither away, but the constant nagging and doting was stifling. Honestly, why couldn't they just let him drown in his memories? It would be so much easier to give in to the pain than to struggle against it just to make his friends happy. What was the point?

When Remus came out with two mugs of tea he handed one to James before sitting down next to him. James silently wrapped his hands around the cup, staring into it as the tea leaves floated on the surface of the hot water.

"Can I ask you something?"

Remus hummed as he drank from his own cup.

"Do you know of any dark creatures that live in the water?"

"Can you be more specific?"

"Grey-ish? Bony? I had a weird dream is all."

"Merpeople are considered dark creatures. Fire crabs, but they aren't really dark. Kappas. Hippocampus can be testy if you don't know how to work with them. Kelpies. Does that help?"

"Not really…"

"What was the dream about?"

James shrugged. "Something humanesque crawling from dark water, I don't know. It looked human. Silly dream, right? It's probably nothing." He lifted the cup to his lips, ignoring the feeling of Remus' eyes on him, attempting to change the subject by smiling at him. "You know you've got a lot of knowledge about these things. You'd make a decent teacher."

Remus rolled his head to the side, a grim smile on his lips. "Ha. That's funny."

"I'm serious!"

"I thought I was Sirius," a tired voice grumbled, and James looked over his shoulder at where Sirius was standing, hair messed up and tired eyes heavy with annoyance.

"Are you? Must've forgotten," James grinned.

"Morning, Pad," Remus chuckled into his mug, and Sirius grunted.

"Bastard woke me up."

"Regulus did?" James asked, feeling hopeful, and Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"No, not him. Dumbledore."

"What's he doing here so early?" Remus raised to his feet, following Sirius into the cottage.

James stayed outside for a minute longer before getting up and following, setting his half empty mug of tea on the counter before meeting the others in the living room.

"What's going on?" James stopped next to Sirius, propping an elbow against his shoulder and leaning against his side. 

"Good morning, James," Dumbledore greeted with a smile. "Did you rest well?"

"Like a baby, what are you doing here now?"

"I came to borrow misters Black and Lupin."

James felt Sirius tense. "What for?"

"There have been sightings reported to me by Kingsley, familiar faces; Death Eaters."

James pressed his lips together and Remus stood straighter. "Do we know where they are?"

"We have their last location. The Aurors are stretched quite thin at the moment, I came to enlist your help to track them from where they were last."

James felt immediately uneasy, leaning away from Sirius. "What about me? Am I going?"

"Ah, Mister Potter, I would like nothing more, but at the moment your priorities are here, with little Harry." Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "I could not bother you to help when you're all he has left."

The unease turned to nausea and James curled his hands into fists at his sides. The older wizard was right of course, James couldn't very well prance off on Order missions when Lily wasn't around to take care of Harry till he got back. More than that, James just couldn't afford to put his own life on the line when Harry was halfway to an orphan already. Still, the idea of Sirius and Remus going alone, without him to help…

"Is there no one else who can go?"

"Unfortunately, the Longbottom's are taking care of their own son at the moment, Kingsley and Alastar both are buried in Ministry work, and the rest… well… I'm sad to say the Death Eaters found them before they could find the Death Eaters."

James felt even more uneasy at that, looking at Sirius, who put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be alright, mate."

"He's right after all, you need to take care of Harry, and yourself," Remus added. "We'll be fine, we've worked under worse conditions. We'll be back before you realize we're gone."

James had to swallow the argument, snarky comments and the desire to tell Dumbledore to screw off, simply nodding his head in what felt like forced compliance and watching his friends prepare for a mission that would keep them away for who knew how long.

"Try not to miss us too much." Remus squeezed James in a hug before stepping back and letting Sirius engulf James in his arms.

"Keep your wand on you, yeah? Just in case the little bastard turns on you."

"You worry too much, Pads," James chuckled as Sirius pulled away. "He won't. Alright?"

"You're still pretty confident about that, huh?"

"Just trust me," James grinned.

The smile slowly slipped off his face as he watched the three of them leave the house, the door shutting with a click and leaving James alone in the living room.

For a moment all he did was stand there and stare at the doorknob, his mind nothing but a mash of thoughts and worries. At the very back, a lingering voice croaked out what he had to stuff back down his throat so as not to say it in front of Sirius.

"Hard to murder a man when they already wish they were dead."

Would it even be murder at that point? Or would it be considered assisted suicide?

Harry's cries from upstairs distracted James from his demented pondering, fussing about and calling for his daddy. So James turned away with a sigh and hiked up the stairs to retrieve him from the bedroom.

The rest of the day was too quiet, broken only by Harry's occasional babbling as he wandered about, toddling around the living room. James sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees, keeping a close eye on him and flicking his wand to turn Harry when he was getting into something or trying to climb the bookshelves.

There wasn't much that could stimulate the toddler, they hadn't had any time to bring many toys, though Harry was clinging to a stuffed dog toy that Sirius had bought for him. James didn't really know what to do.

Normally Remus and Sirius were there to help keep the boy distracted, it was a lot easier to play with him when there were other people around. Whenever James called out to Harry, trying to instigate a game with him, something painful would lodge into his chest. It felt like a poison had grown from Lily's absence that made it near impossible to play with his son without feeling somehow lonely.

He was becoming a pathetic excuse for a father, but what could he do? All of this happened so fast. James was still young himself, he wasn't prepared to do this alone. He clung to the memory of his parents as tightly as he could, continuously asking himself what they would do in this situation, but it just made him feel worse.

They were gone too, after all. They couldn't be there to help with Harry any more than Lily or her parents could.

He vaguely recalled that Lily's sister was married with a child, but Petunia wasn't exactly friendly, and seemed to hold a special version of despise for James and all magical kind, so calling her for help, especially when Lily was gone, probably wouldn't end well.

James considered the consequences of reaching out to Lyall Lupin, being the only parent currently alive between the three of them, but he wasn't sure how Remus would respond to that. They had a fine relationship of course, but Remus had muttered more than once that the last thing he wanted was to cause his father any sort of problem. James disagreed, knowing fully that Lyall would probably be thrilled if his son relied on him for something, but it probably wasn't his place to say that to Remus.

So James was alone in this, slumped on the couch watching his son hug a toy while he wandered around the living room in Regulus Black's warded cottage, waiting for his friends to return from a dangerous mission and worrying more about them with every tick of the clock hands hanging on the walls.

He wished it was him who had gone, not Remus or Sirius. If he lost one of them, he would break completely, but it didn't matter if he was the one to die during a mission. It didn't matter to him. Even though Lily would be disappointed, and Harry would be an orphan, wouldn't it hurt less in the end? Harry would have a better chance if Sirius were to raise him anyway.

James rolled his head where he had it lying against the back of the couch, watching Harry tug on the knee of his jeans, one fist rubbing at his eye.

"What's the matter, bud, getting sleepy?"

Harry looked up at him, and James felt his chest constrict painfully at the green eyes that watched him. He leaned forward and picked Harry up, leaning back against the couch and letting Harry cuddle against his chest, chin propped against his shoulder and fists curled into his shirt.

Harry mumbled incoherently, not really words, but somehow James could feel he was upset. Most babies got upset for no reason, but James wasn't an idiot.

"I miss her too, kiddo," he whispered, eyes shut tightly. "It's gonna be okay. I know I'm not as good at this as mum was, but I'll do my best. I really will." He ducked his head to bury his face in Harry's wild hair; it needed to be brushed, there were tangles in it.

"How about we take a bath then play outside, huh bud?" James pulled Harry away so he was sitting on his lap, rubbing his nose. "You wanna play outside? I'll show you something fun. Maybe we should play first, then take a bath. If you get cleaned up now you'll just get dirty again." He tugged a lock of Harry's messy hair, making him giggle. "We definitely have to fix this though, oh boy. What I wouldn't give for my old man's hair balm. I'll send Sirius a patronus to pick some up later."

It killed time at least, sitting outside with Harry, brushing out the tangles with minimal fussing as Harry was distracted by the little white flowers in the grass, the pebbles and rocks he kept trying to put in his mouth, and the occasional bug.

"There you go little man." James ran his fingers through Harry's tangle free black hair, ruffling it up. "You're as handsome as me now! What do you want to do now we're done? Wanna take a walk? I bet there's a river somewhere in that forest."

Harry was bouncing and giggling, grabbing the air with his hands. "Pa-foo."

"What's that?" James looked up where Harry was reaching towards, freezing on the spot when he saw the same fox from the day before trotting along on top of the cairn, head low and moving towards the house.

It paused suddenly, as if realizing people were in the yard, head turning and piercing eyes meeting James'. He felt paralyzed, eyes wide as the fox stared at him silently, before flicking its tail and jumping off the cairn, outside the fence.

James found himself standing before he comprehended it, leaning over the cairn and not quite remembering the walk over as he searched around for the creature. It had shown up twice now, as if it frequented the cottage for some reason. James couldn't imagine why. Regulus didn't leave trash out that could attract animals, in fact he didn't leave anything out at all. The place was immaculate. So what brought the little guy around?

"Pa-foo!"

James turned quickly to return to Harry, plucking him off the ground. "That's not Padfoot, silly," he teased, and Harry pouted, turning to look at the cairn fence. "It's called a fox. Pads is a dog. That guy's a little different." James looked at the fence with Harry, shaking his head after a moment and smiling down at his son.

"Never mind. Stranger things have happened to us, haven't they? Remus is right, we're backed against a forest, animals are bound to wander here from time to time." He readjusted his grip on the squirming toddler. "What do you say, Harry? Getting hungry?"

As if in response to the question, Harry attempted to put a flower clutched in his fist into his mouth, and James quickly took it away, making him pout.

"That's a yes. I'll make you some lunch."


End file.
